Memoirs of Andrew Sherburne; a pensioner of the navy of the Revolution, written by himself

REESE LIBRARY

01 IHt

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORh

l\.t'i'ei < 't'd.
Accessions No. 1-4- % ^

MEMOIRS

OP

ANDREW SHERBlTRtfE:

fi?s~Sii^

* nv TWR ' '

WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.

" Th«y that go clown to the sea in ships, that do business in
great waters ; they see the works of the LORD, and his wonders
la the deep." — Psalmist.

SECOND EDITION,

ENLARGED AND IMPROVED.

H. M. BROWN.... MARKET-SQUARE
'"1831."'

Northern District of New-York, to wit :

' BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty-sixth day of Atr-
gust, in the fifty-third yeai of the Independence of the United
States of Ameiica, A. D, 1828, Andrew Sherburne, of the sai«)
district, hath deposited in this office the title of a book, the right
whereof he claims as author, in the words following, to wit ;

Memoirs of Andrew Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the
revolution. Written by himself. " They that go down to the sea
in ships, that do business in great waters ; they see the ^vorks of
the LORD, and his wonders in the deep." PSALMIST.

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States,
entitled, "An act for the encouragement, of learning, by securing
the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprie
tors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned j" and
also, to the act entitled, "An act supplementary to an act entitled
'An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies
of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprietors of such
copies during the times therein mentioned,' and extending the
benefits thereof to the arts of Designing, Engraving and Etching,
historical and other prints."

RICHARD R. LANSING,

Clerk of the District Court of the United States, for the
Northern District of JVete- York.

PREFACE.

THERE are yet surviving a few, and but a
few, who lived, acted and suffered in the Rev
olution which gave freedom, independence
and prosperity to the United States of Amer
ica. And a very large majority of that few
have gone by three score years and ten. They
are bending beneath the weight of years and
early sufferings.

Their thin locks are whitened by the frosts
of seventy, and some by more than eighty
winters, and are " dragging the poor remains
of life along the tiresome road." A few of
them are in affluent circumstances — others
are sustained by their children and friends —
some are partially provided for by govern
ment, and some are in indigent circumstan
ces.

But the number is very fast diminishing ; a
little while and the American people will
look round in vain to find an individual who
personally acted in the Revolution. The au
thor of this narrative is in the junior class of
the survivors of the Revolution, as he was
only ten years of age when the conflict be
gan, and entered the naval service, at the
age of thirteen. The complicated charac
ter of his trials, arid sufferings in the United
States navy — his capture — and forcible de
tention in the British navy-^shipvvreck and

IT PREFACE.

sufferings in a wilderness in Newfoundland,
in prison ships and hospital ships, were almost
unparalleled.

Many years since he was solicited by gen
tlemen of literature and taste, to give his nar
rative to the public ; but his limited educa
tion, diffidence of his own abilities to write,
and in a word his poverty and shattered con
stitution, rendered the thought so appalling,
that he shrank from the task. It was never
theless his intention (if he could find time
before death should call for him) to leave
in manuscript some detail of his extraordi
nary conflicts, and especially of the marvel
ous interpositions of the Lord of Sabbaoth in
preserving his life amidst distresses, dan
gers, and death, and giving him a hope oi
eternal life and immortal glory through the
merits of Jesus Christ.

It is aptly expressed that " Procrastina
tion is the thief of time." More than three
score years passed away before he commenc
ed the task; nor then, until the thought oc
curred that he might realize some emolu
ments by its publication, the prominent
object, doubtless, of most authors.

He was at the same time aware of the
apparent indelicacy of a person's publishing
his auto-biography. Such a thought proba
bly would be revolting to some persons of
virtue and refined taste, while possessing
competence, who, if reduced to poverty.

PREFACE, V

with a dependant and helpless family, would
dispense with their (possibly) false delicacy,
for necessity has no law.

Anterior to publishing his first edition, he
was confident that there were thousands of
citizens who would most cheerfully patronize
his work. It had been his hard fortune, in
the war of the Revolution, to become a cap
tive three times, and each time to travel home
an absolute beggar.

In his anticipations he has not been disap
pointed. Numerous gentlemen and ladies
have bought and read his book, and have
paid him so much of a compliment as to say,
that they considered it an interesting narra
tive, and well deserving patronage. It has
introduced him to many families of distinc
tion, arid procured for him many affectionate
and warm-hearted friends among strangers.

Those gratuitous tokens and expressions
of friendship, together with the sympathies
exhibited, have gone far to revive his droop
ing spirits, while buffeting, in advanced life,
the inclemencies of three tedious winters,
far distant from his family.

He is at a loss for language to express his
grateful sense of obligations to those ladies
and gentlemen who have patronized his first
edition. He can only say, that it has been,
is now, and shall be his prayer to God, that
they and theirs may never want any good
thing. And most fervently does he pray

VI PREFACE.

that the Americans as a nation may properly
appreciate the freedom which they enjoy,
while they learn the price of its purchase,
and that they may be a virtuous, united
and happy people, sustained and protected
by the arm of Omnipotence.

In disposing of his first edition, the author
has travelled South into the State of Virgin
ia, East to Maine, and West to Ohio. To
his second edition he has added the most
interesting events of the last three years of
his life, in these long journeys ; and now
presents the public with this edition, be
ing confident that as yet he has offered his
little book to but few of those patriotic citi
zens who would most freely patronize the
work.

As in the providence of God, the Author
has been denied the advantages of an edu
cation, he makes no pretensions to elegance
of style or diction; but with all due defer
ence submits his humble performance to the
public.

ANDREW SHERBURNE.
Augusta, Oncida County, N. Y. March. 1831.

CERTIFICATES.

Whereas the Rev. Andrew Sherburne, our worthy
brother and fellow-laborer in the gospel, contemplates
making a journey, with his family, to remove into the
south western regions of this country, to reside; in order
that he may meet with that reception among Christians,
to which his character and office entitle him; the under
signed beg leave to represent, that he has for fifteen
years past maintained a respectable standing in the
New-Hampshire Baptist Association, as pastor of the
Baptist church in Arundel; and as far as our information
extends, is deemed faithful and well established in doc
trine, whom we esteem highly in love, as a Christian
brother and a minister of Christ; and as such, we would
recommend him to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in
sincerity.

SIMON LOCK,
Pastor of the church in Li/man.

ABNER FLANDERS,
Pastor of the Baptist church in Buxton.

JOSHUA ROBERTS,
Pastor of the Baptist church in East parish of Wells.

TIMOTHY HUDSON,
Pastor of the church in Hollis.
Hollis, August 21st, 1818.

This and the three following Certificates were given to the Au
thor, while on his journey from the State of Ohio to Maine.
Washington city, House of Representatives, Feb.%8, 1823.
The Rev. Andrew Sherburne, the bearer of this, is wor
thy the confidence of the friends of Zion, and esteem of
his fellow-citizens generally. Twenty years acquain
tance, has proved him an undeviating friend. I most cor
dially sympathize with him in his troubles, having per
formed those services in the revolutionary war, which
entitle him to respect.

MARK HARRIS.

Vlll CERTIFICATES.

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.

The subscriber has seen the credentials of the Rev.
Andrew Sherburne, and has, otherwise, had an opportu-*
nity of becoming acquainted with his character. He be
lieves Mr. Sherburne to be a brother deserving the affec
tionate and respectful regards of the churches. Mr. 8.
will, himself communicate the story of his sufferings du
ring the revolutionary war, and his subsequent toils in
the service of his country. His necessities are real and
imperious, and it is hoped the patriot and the Christian
will alike contribute to his assistance.

WM. STAUGHTON.

Philadelphia, April 11, 1823.

Having seen the Rev. Mr. Sherburne's testimonials,
and being personally and fully satisfied with his piety
and good character, I do most cordially coincide with
the Rev. Dr. Staughton in the foregoing certificate and
just recommendation.

WM. ROGERS.

Philadelphia, April 15, 1823.

I cheerfully add my testimony in favor of the Rev-
Mr. Sherburne's character to the foresfoing, and recom
mend him to the charitable consideration of the opulent
and benevolent.

JEDEDIAH MORSE.

New Haven, June 12, 1823.

MEMOIRS OF ANDREW SHERBURNE.

" I have attentively perused the ' Memoirs of Andrew
Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the Revolution.'
Publications of this description, though they may not
challenge admiration by elegance of style or diction, still
deserve the notice of Americans.

The actors in our Revolutionary struggle, have, with
a few exceptions, gone i the way of all the earth.' Many
interesting details relative to the period that ' tried men's
souls,' must necessarily perish with those who witnessed
them. An attempt to preserve from oblivion, facts which
show the interposition of the Lord of Sabbaoth, in favor

CERTIFICATE.*:. IX

of the oppressed, and the unconquerable firmness of
those who fought in the great cause of freedom and of
man, cannot be uninteresting to the pious and the free.
1 recommend the work to the perusal of our citizens, and
its aged, war-worn author to the kindness of all who be
lieve that a debt of gratitude is still due to the veterans
of the Revolution.

N. N. WHITING,
Pastor of the Baptist church, Vernon.
Vernon, Aug. 5, 1828.

I have read the above work with considerable interest.
The author has written in a spirit of moderation and pie
ty worthy of imitation.

I consider Mr. Sherburne and his work, as entitled to
the patronage of all Americans.

N. WILLIAMS,

Judge of the Circuit Court, State N. Y.
Utica, Nov. 12, 1828.

We fully concur in the opinion above expressed by
Mr. Whiting and Judge Williams, and most cheerfully
recommend the work to the patronage of a liberal and
enlightened public.

S. C. AIKIN,

Pastor of the first Prcs. church, Utica.
WILLIAM WILLIAMS.

The following editorial notice of this work appeared in the
New- York Baptist Register, conducted by A. M. Beebee, Esq. on
the 7th November, 18*28, which may be recorded as the fair ex
pression of those who have read the book.

" We have read with deep interest ' The Memoirs of
Andrew Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the Rev
olution,' published by William Williams, Utica, and re
commend it to the patronage of the community. It is the
plain and simple narration of the life of one who commenc
ed while a youth, in our Revolutionary struggle, and en
dured with the fortitude of a man, most extraordinary'per-
ils and sufferings, displaying a purity of patriotism to be
admired, even in a veteran. Its interest is not a little

X CERTIFICATES.

enhanced, from the circumstance of the author having
been, not only a Revolutionary hero, but subsequently a
Christian, and also a Christian minister. Private indi
viduals are overlooked in the glare of attraction which
surrounds the great. The officers and great men, who
have figured in contests for national glory, give you in
a general mass only, the privates whose labors have se
cured their fame, while those who have commanded in
the fight, have been individually selected for the laurel.
Those who have shared in doing and suffering for their
country, deserve grateful recollections. But few, in
common rank, have told the history of either. Humility
on the one hand, and stinted acquirements on the other,
have disqualified them for the task. In the present in
stance, however, we are presented with the Memoirs of
one in an humble station, during the trying period of
America's strife, who acquired the ability to write the
history of his woes, while a captive for his country in Mill
prison, in England. The narration, though unpretend
ing, is marked with much good sense, and purity of style;
and the incidents which it unfolds cannot fail to interest
every true American, and also all such as love the gospel
of Christ. The price of the work is one dollar, and who,
that has the sum to spare, would not cheerfully pay it to
relieve the declining years of a veteran of the Revolu
tion?"

The following editorial notice of the above named work, is from
the Utica Intelligencer of 7tli October, 1828, by E. S. Ely, Esq.

" We have been much pleased in the perusal of a part
of the volume with the above title. The style is easy
and familiar, and the narration contains a circumstantial
account of several voyages made during the interesting
period of the Revolution, the writer's treatment when
confined in Mill prison, at Plymouth, in England, and
his sufferings on board the Jersey prison ship, from which
he was discharged at the peace of 17813. Mr. Sher-
burne has been for a number of years a reputable minis
ter of the Baptist church. He is a pensioner, and of
course in circumstances far from affluent, and we hope
his book will be patronized, not only as an entertaining

CERTIFICATES. XI

auto-biography, abounding with uncommon incidents,
but from regard to one whose services and pecuniary
circumstances recommend him to favor,"

The following communication Nvas designed to have a place
among the recommendations of the work spoken of in it; and
though not received in time for that purpose, we think proper,
even now, to lay it before the public.

MR. WM. WILLIAMS,

g|R, — Understanding that you are about to publish
the Life of Rev. Andrew Sherburne, written by himself,
I think it my duty to communicate to you some of my
thoughts respecting the work.

When Mr. Sherburne first consulted me on the expe
diency of having it published, 1 felt apprehensive that
it would be unsaleable, and occasion to him, rather a bur
then than a benefit; and consequently di&suaded him
from the undertaking. He urged me to look into the
manuscript, Reluctantly I complied; and had read but
a few pages, when my attention became fixed, and I re
gretted that I had not time to read it through before he
called for it. I read, however, the account of his ad
ventures and sufferings during the Revolutionary War,
to the time of his release from confinement on board the
JERSEY. My opinion on the expediency of printing it
became decidedly reversed. I am persuaded that, if
published, it will be perused and read with great avidity
by various classes of American citizens. It gives a more
circumstantial detail of the sufferings and deliverances of
our naval prisoners, during the Revolutionary conflict,
than I have seen in any other book, and in connexion
therewith serves greatly to illustrate the minute and won
derful operations of Divine Providence. Upon the whole,
though in a plain style, it is a very interesting story;
and exhibits a character, in several respects extraor
dinary.

Wherefore, as the author is now old and poor, and
has a dependant family, I do most cordially wish that the
book may be published, and that it may receire deserted
patronage; which will, in some measure, remunerate
his past toils, and supply his present wants. Indeed,

XU CERTIFICATES.

whether his youthful and faithful services in the cause
of his country, be recollected, or whether he be consid
ered as an aged and needy disciple and minister of
Christ, where is the American patriot or the sympathet
ic Christian, that would refuse to give a dollar for a
copy of his book ?

Respectfully yours,

WILLIAM PARKINSON,
Pastor of first Baptist church, N. York.
New-York, July 12, 1827.

From my personal acquaintance with Rev. Mr. Sher-
burne, and from the interesting character of his biog
raphy, as far as opportunity has been afforded to peruse
the M. S. I do most cordially unite in the preceding
recommendation.

SPENCER II. CON*;,
Pastor of Oliver-street Baptsit churchy N. York.

MEMOIRS

OP

ANDREW SHERBURNE,

CHAPTER I.

"The Author's birth and parentage — at the agfi of seven
years left his father's house — Londonderry — Mrs.
Bell, an Irish Presbyterian lady -^-her piety — the Au
thor' '$ first religious impressions through her instruc
tions — public excitement at the commencement of the
revolution — the Authors jirst cruise, on board the.
Ranger , at the age of thirteen*

MY ancestors, both on my father's and mother's side,
were from England, My father could trace hi spedigree
back to one of the earliest settlers of Portsmouth, New
Hampshire. Within my remembrance many persons cf
the name of Sherburne, were inhabitants of Portsmouth,
and especially of the plain, called Sherburne's plain. The
only family, however, now on the plain, is that, of Capt.
Joseph Sherburne, my uncle's son. He is of the sixth
or seventh generation of that name who have held the
same farm in succession. My father, Andrew Sher
burne, was the son of Deacon John Sherburne, of Ports
mouth. My mother was Susannah Knight, the eldest
daughter of George Knight, of Kittery, Maine- He died
at Cape Breton, in Sir William Pepperell's expedition,
in the year 1745, leaving three infant daughters, Susan
nah, my mother, Mary, who became the wife of Capt.
Joseph Green, and Elizabeth, married to Capt, William
White. These gentlemen were commanders of vessels
which sailed from Portsmouth. My grandmother, Mrs.
Knight, married Mr. Shadrach Weymouth, whose sons
I shall have occasion to mention hereafter.
2

14 MEMOIRI OF

I was born in the town of Rye,* once a part of Ports
mouth, N. H. September 30th, 1765, within one hundred
rods of the Atlantic ocean. I was the second son and
fourth child of my parents. My brothers were Thomas,
older than myself, Samuel, George and John 5 the last
died in infancy. My sisters were Martha, Elizabeth,
Mary, Susan, Abagail, Marcy, Sarah and another who
died in infancy. At an early age my life began to be
marked by misfortunes and dangers. When I was less
than three years of age I fell into a spring, and was to
appearance drowned. A sister one year and a half older
than myself, gave the alarm. I was taken out, and the
Almighty was pleased to resuscitate me. Having reach
ed the age of seven years, my father placed me with Mr.
John Gate, of Londonderry, forty miles from Portsmouth,
His wife was my father's youngest sister, I lived more
than four years in this family, without having seen any
member of my father's family. Here I began to feel the
sorrows of life. I frequently mourned deeply over my
separation from my father, mother, brothers and sisters.
I had no playmate. When childish vanity or froward-
ness received correction, I frequently felt myself friend
less, and sometimes thought that I was chastised when I
did not deserve it, and that if my parents were acquain
ted with my sufferings, they would surely take me
home with them. Children certainly enjoy a very great
blessing, who in childhood are permitted to remain under
the care of parents. When I was eight or nine years
old, an ancient Irish Presbyterian lady, by the name of
Bell came to reside in my uncle's family. She had ex
perienced religion before her removal from Ireland. —
She had been distinguished for her piety during the
course of a long life, having now reached the age of
ninety. She was the first woman whom I had ever
heard pray. She had been a cripple from her youth,
was never married, and at this time I believe subsisted
on the charity of her friends. Families whose means
would allow it, seemed to account it an honor to have
Mrs. Bell for a guest. She paid especial attention to

* At Rye was once a part of Portsmouth, I haro generally
from that place.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 15

the youth and children of those families in which she
resided, taught them to read, instructed them in the cate
chism, stored their memories with hymns, and often con
versed with them on the subject of religion. I recollect
to have heard her speak of an extraordinary reformation
which took place in Ireland during her childhood. She
stated that a number of very young children were con
verted, some of whom at an early period, left the world
in an extacy of joy, with strong confidence in the prospect
of dwelling with the Saviour. When Mrs. Bell entered
my uncle's family, I had but little opportunity for read
ing ; she, however instructed me in the catechism, and
I, under her direction, learned a number of hymns, most
of which I recollect to this day.

One Sabbath afternoon, while this lady was employed
in catechising the children of the family, my mind be
came agitated in an unusual manner. I wished to retire,
but feared to make the attempt, lest 1 should be ordered
to remain in the room ; at the same time I concluded
I should cry aloud if I remained. I was awed with
a sense of the presence of GOD, but could find no cause
for my strange confusion of mind. At length I hastily
ma.de for the door and retired without molestation. It
gave n*e a momentary relief to escape from the house
unmolested, I fled to the barn, imagining that my (eet
scarcely touched the ground, and falling on my knees in
one corner, I, for the first time attempted to pray.

To all this, except weeping when I first left the house,
I seemed to be involuntarily impelled. The conflict of
feeling subsided, my mind became tranquil, and for some
days or weeks, 1 felt an unusuul degree of solemnity. I
have no recollection that Mrs. Bell ever made any inqui
ries respecting the state of my mind, yet she was inde
fatigable in giving me good counsel.

During fifty-six years which passed away since
that event, I have reflected on it perhaps a thousand
times, but have never been able satisfactorily to assign a
cause for my feelings on that Sabbath. I am not aware
that I founded any hopes of salvation on those impress
ions. From that time fonvatd, however, when I thought
of GOD, my mind was filled with awe, and I often dread-

10

MEMOIRS OF

ed to sin against him. Still I was not aware, at this pe
riod, of the fountain of iniquity which existed within my
heart. From that period I occasionally prayed ; some
times felt my affections considerably excited, especially
when thinking of home. I am now persuaded that I had
no small degree of Pharisaic pride about me. I was
however hut a child, and much, very much needed an
instructor.

I must now call the attention of the reader to circum
stances of a different kind, and wish that he with myself
may keep the providence of GOD in view. The cele
brated Stamp Act passed the British Parliament in 1765,
the year of my hirth. That act excited a genera) alarm
among the American Colonists, Resolutions were
passed against the act, by^ost of the colonial assemblies.
I had breathed but a few days when ten of the colo
nies, by their representatives, formed a Colonial Con
gress in the City of New- York, in October, 1705.

I was about nine years of age when Gen. Gage, with
a land and naval force, took possession of Boston, which
has been termed the "cradle of American indepenr
dence." The seizure of Boston exasperated the feel
ings of the colonists in every section of our country. I
distinctly recollect the period when the farmers of Lon
donderry coujd scarcely settle themselves to their work.
They felt that their rights were invaded. Many persons-
of talent or influence were friendly to the measures pur
sued by the British parliament,; they were termed " To
ries." Another class, which remonstrated against those
measures, received the name of " Whigs." My miclfc
with whom I resided was a decided Whig. Having form
ed acquaintances in Boston, where he had served his
time at the cabinet-maker's business, he felt a deep inte
rest, in the events which occurred there. He took the
news-papers ; (there were comparatively few published
at that day,) his neighbours assembled about him, and
the fire-side conversation turned on the rights of the peo
ple, the injustice of parliament, the detection of Tories,
&c. The conflicts at Lexington and Bunker's hill, and
the burning of Charleston, roused the Irish " Yankies"
of Londonderry.. Tlie young men posted off to the bat-

ANDREW SHERBUR.VE. 17

tie ground, prompted by their sires, who followed them
with their horses laden with provisions. My ears were
open to all the passing news. I wished myself old
enough to take an active part in this contest. Little did
I realize at that time the horrors of war. I had not yet
heard the clash of arms, the groans of the dying, and the
shouts of the victors. Nor did I imagine at this period,
when I so much abhorred swearing, that the time would
•arrive when I should become a profane sailor. What is
man ? "At his best estate he is altogether vanity.'1

In Londonderry the influence ofDoct. Matthew Thorn
ton, one of the signers of the declaration of independence,
•was exerted with great effect, on the side of liberty. —
When I was about eleven years of age, my uncle re
moved from Londonderry to Epsom. Here another
distinguished patriot had resided, Capt. Mc'Leary. He
fell with General Warren, on Bunker's Hill. I recollect
the four following lines of a dirge, commemorative of the
deaths of Warren and Mc'Leary, and their companions.

"My trembling hands and aching heart,

O how it throbs this day;
Their loss is felt in every part

Of North America."

These lines indicate the spirit of the times, rather than
the poetic talent of their author. A martial spirit was
diffused through the little circle of my acquaintances. —
As the men were frequently called together for military
discipline, their example was not lost upon the boys. —
Lads from seven years old and upwards, were formed
into companies, and being properly officered, armed with
wooden guns and adorned with plumes, they would go
through the manual exercise with as much regularity as
the men. If two or three boys met, their martial ardor
showed itself in exercising with sticks instead of muskets.
Many a bitter sigh and broken heart., however, testified
in the end the result of this military excitement.

Parents saw with pain their sons advancing from child
hood to youth. My reader can but faintly imagine the
feelings of an aged father, or an affectionate mother,
perhaps a widow, when news arrived that a son had fal-
2*

18 MEMOIRS OP

Ion in the field of battle, or had languished and died itf
a hospital, or still remained a prisoner in the hands of
a foe. whose tender mercies were cruel. Danger how
ever did not deter our young men from pressing forward
to the battle ground, or sailing to meet the foe upon the
ocean.

I turn to myself. While residing in Epsom, on
a Sabbath I went to a meeting in Chichester, accompa
nied by a number of others. I do not recollect to have
heard the preacher's name, but I am inclined to think
that it must have been Elder Eliphalet Smith, [common
ly called "Mountain Smith."] At this period I was
about twelve years of age. I had enjoyed but little op
portunity for hearing preaching. Although the congre
gation assembled in a barn, the worship was conducted
with great solemnity, and the preacher had my whole at
tention. I felt a solemn sense of my responsibility to
GOD. In the intermission I retired into the woods, my
mind was filled with serious reflections, and I earnestly
wished to continue in this frame of mind. While return
ing home, I had no inclination to join the young compa
ny in their light and careless conversation. I felt inclined
to walk alone. The impression made on my mind con
tinued for some time. 1 do not recollect, however, to
have formed any opinion respecting my situation. In
difference at last succeeded, but I did not indulge myself
in outbreaking sins as usual. Soon after this I returned
to my parents in Portsmouth. An abundance of new
objects was here presented to my view. Ships were
building, prizes taken from the enemy unloading, priva
teers fitting out, standards waved on the forts and batte
ries, the exercising of soldiers, the roar of cannon, the
sound of martial music and the call for volunteers so in
fatuated me, that I was filled with anxiety to become an
actor in the scene of war. My eldest brother, Thomas,
had recently returned from a cruise on board the u Gen
eral Mifrlin," of Boston, Capt, Mc'Neal. This ship had
captured thirteen prizes, some of which, however, being
of little value, were burnt, some were sold in France,
others reached Boston, and their cargoes were divided
among the crew of that ship. On my brother's return,

EW SHERBURNE. 19

[became more eager to try my fortune at sea. My fa-
hor, though a high Whig, disapproved the practice of
privateering. Merchant vessels, at this period, which
ran safe, made great gains, seamen's wages were conse
quently very high. Through my lather's influence
Thomas was induced to enter the merchants' service
Though not yet fourteen years of age, like other hoys,
I imagined myself almost a man. I had intimated to my
sister, that if my father would not consent that I should
go to sea, I would run away, and go on hoard a privateer.
My mind became so infatuated with the subject, that I
talked of it in my sleep, and was overheard by my mother.
She communicated what she had heard to my father. —
My parents were apprehensive that I might wander off
and go on board some vessel without their consent. At
this period it was not an uncommon thing for lads to
come out of the country, step on board a privateer, make
a cruise and return home, their friends remaining in en
tire ignorance of their fate, until they heard it from chem-
sclves. Others would pack up their clothes, take a cheese
and a loaf of bread, and -steer off for the army. There
was a disposition in commanders of privateers and re
cruiting officers to encourage this spirit of enterprise in
young men and boys. Though these rash young adven
turers did not count the cost, or think of looking at the
dark side of the picture, yet this spirit, amidst the des
pondency of many, enabled our country to maintain
a successful struggle and finally achieve her indepen
dence.

The continental ship of war Ranger, of eighteen guns,
commanded by Thomas Simpson, Esq. was at this time
shipping a crew in Portsmouth. This ship had been or
dered to join the Boston and Providence frigates and the
Queen of France of twenty guns, upon an expedition di
rected by Congress. My father having consented that I
should go to sea, preferred the service of Congress to pri
vateering. He was acquainted with Capt. Simpson. —
Onboard this ship were my two half uncles, Timothy
and James Weymouth. Accompanied by my father, I
visited the rendezvous of the Ranger and shipped as one
of her crew. There were probably thirty boys on board

20 MEMOIRS OP

this ship. As most of our principal officers belonged to
the town, parents preferred this ship as a station for their
sons who were about to enter the naval service. Hence
most of these boys were from Portsmouth. As priva
teering was the order of the day, vessels ofevery descrip
tion were employed in the business. Men were not
wanting who would hazard themselves in vessels of twen
ty tons or less, manned by ten or fifteen hands. Placing
much dependence on the protection of my uncles, I was
much elated with my supposed good fortune, which had
at last made me a sailor.

I was not yet fourteen years of age. I had received
some little moral and religious instruction, and was far
from being accustomed to the habits of town boys, or the
maxims or dialect of sailors. The town boys thought
themselves vastly superior to country lads ; and indeed
in those days the distinction was much greater than at
present. My diffidence and aversion to swearing, ren
dered me an object of ridicule to those little profane
chaps. I was insulted, and frequently obliged to fight.
In this I was sometimes victorious. My uncles, and oth
ers, prompted me to defend my rights. I soon began to
improve in boxing, and to indulge in swearing. At first
this practice occasioned some remorse of conscience. —
I however endeavored to persuade myself that there was
a necessity for it. I at length became a proficient in this
abominable practice. To counterbalance my guilt in
this, I at the same time became more constant in praying;
heretofore I had only prayed occasionally ; now I pray
ed continually when I turned in at night, and vainly im
agined that I prayed enough by night to atone for the
sins of the day. Believing that no other person on board
prayed, I was filled with pride, concluding I had as much
or more religion than the whole crew besides. The boys
were employed in waiting on the officers, but in time of
action a boy was quartered to each gun to carry cart
ridges. I was waiter to Mr. Charles Roberts, the boat
swain, and was quartered at the third gun from the bo\r.
Being ready for sea, we sailed to Boston, joined the
Providence frigate, commanded by Commodore Whipplc,
the Boston frigate and the Queen of France. I believe

ANDREW SHEREURNE. 21

that this small squadron composed nearly the entire na
vy of the United States. We proceeded to sea some
time in June, 1TT9. A considerable part of the crew of
the Ranger being raw hands and the sea rough, especial
ly in the gulf stream, many were exceedingly sick, and
myself amono; the rest. We afforded a subject of con
stant ridicule to the old sailors. Our officers improved
every favorable opportunity for woi king the ship and
exercising the guns. We cruised several weeks,
made the Western Islands, and at length fell in with
the homeward bound Jamaica fleet, on the banks of
Newfoundland. It was our practice to keep a man at
the mast head constantly by day, on the look out. The
moment a sail was discovered, a signal \vnsgiven to our
consorts, and all possible exertion was made to come up
with the stranger, or discover what she was. About
seven o'clock one morning, the man at the fore-topmast
head cried out, " a sail, a sail on the Ice-bow; another
there, and there." Our youiiLf officers ran up the shrouds,
and with their glasses soon ascertained that more than
fifty sail could be seen from the mast-head. It should'
here be observed, that during the months of summer, it
is extremely foggy on the banks of Newfoundland. — -
Sometimes a ship cannot be seen at the distance of one
hundred yards, and then in a few minutes you may have
a clear sky and bright sun for half an hour, and you are
then enveloped in the fog again. The Jamaica fleet,
which consisted of about one hundred and fifty sail, some
of which were armed, was convoyed by rue or two line
of battle ships, and several frigates and sloops of war.
Our little squadron was in the rear of the fleet, and we
had reason to fear that, some of their heaviest armed ships
were there also. If I am not mistaken, the Boston fri
gate was not in company with us at this time. My rend-.
er may easily imagine that our minds were agitated with
alternate hopes and fears. No time wns to be lost.
Our Commodore soon brought to one of their ships, man
ned and sent her off. "Reing to windward, he edired
away and spoke to our Captain. We were at this time-
in pursuit of a large ship. The Commodore hauled his
wind again, and in the course of an hour we came, up

22 MEMOIRS OP

with the ship, which proved to be the Holderness, a
three decker, mounting 22 guns. She struck after giv
ing her several broadsides. Although she had more
guns, and those of heavier metal than ourselves, her crew
was not sufficiently large to manage her guns, and at the
same time work the ship. She was loaded with cotton,
coffee, sugar, rum and alspice. While we were em
ployed in manning her, our Commodore captured another
and gave her up to us to man also. When this was ac
complished, it was nearly night ; we were, however,
unwilling to abandon the opportunity of enriching our
selves, therefore kept along under easy sail. Some time
in the night we found ourselves surrounded with ships,
and supposed we were discovered. We could distinctly
hear their bells, on which they frequently struck a few
strokes, that their ships might not approach too near
each other during the night. We were close on board
one of their largest armed ships; and from the multitude
of lights which had appeared, supposed that they had
called to quarters. It being necessary to avoid their
convoy, we fell to leeward, and in an hour lost sight of
them all. The next day the sky was overcast, and at
times we had a thick fog. In the afternoon the sun
shone for a short time, and enabled us to see a numerous
fleet a few miles to windward, in such compact order,
that we thought it not best to approach them. We were
however in hopes that we might pick up some single ship.
We knew nothing of our consorts, but were entirely alone.
Towards night we took and manned out a brig. On the
third morning we gained sight of three ships, to which
wo gave chase, and called all hands to quarters. When
they discovered us in chase, they huddled together, in
tending, as we supposed, to fight us ; they however soon
made sail and ran from us ; after a short lapse of time
wo overhauled and took one of them, which we soon
found to be a dull sailer. Another, while we were man
ning our prize, attempted to escape, but we soon found
that we gained upon her. While in chase, a circum
stance occurred which excited some alarm. Two large
ships hove in sight to windward, running directly for us,
under a press of sail. One of them shaped her course

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 23

for the prize we had just manned. We were unwilling
to give up our chase, as we had ascertained from our
prize that the two other ships were laden with sugar,
rum, cotton, &c. and that they were unarmed. We
soon came up with the hindmost, brought her to, and
ordered her to keep under our stern, while we might
pursue the other, as our situation was too critical to al
low us to heave to and get out our boat.

The stranger in chase of us was under English col
ors; we however soon ascertained by her signal, that
she was the Providence frigate, on board of which jvas
our Commodore. This joyful intelligence relieved us
from all fear of the enemy, and we soon came up with
our chase. In the mean time, the prize which we had
taken, (but not boarded,) sought to get under the pro
tection of the Providence, mistaking that frigate for one
of the English convoy, as he still kept their colors flying.
Our prize, therefore, as she thought, eluded us, and hail
ing our Commodore, informed him, '' that a Yankee
cruiser had taken one of the fleet!" 'Very well, very
well,' replied the Commodore, * I'll be alongside of him
directly.' He then hauled down his English colors,
hoisted the American, and ordered the ship to haul down
her flag and come under his stern. This order was im
mediately obeyed. We new ascertained that the strange
ship, which was in chase of our first prize, was another
of our consorts, the Queen of France. Having manned
our prizes and secured our prisoners, we all shaped our
course for Boston, where we arrived some time in the
last of July or beginning of August, 1779.

In all we had taken ten prizes, two of which were re
taken. The Ranger made but a short stop at Boston,
for as most of our officers and crew belonged to Ports
mouth and its vicinity, our vessel could be most conven
iently refitted there. On returning home, I found the
addition of another sister to the family. She is no\r the
wife of Mr. David Ingalls, of Baldwin, in Maine, and is
my youngest and only surviving sister. I had the satis
faction to find the family well. My eldest brother had
recently returned from a successful voyage in a mer
chantman. The cargoes of our prizes being divided;

24 MEMOIRS OF

among our crews, my share was about one ton of sugar,
from thirty to forty gallons of fourth proof Jamaica rum,
about twenty pounds of cotton, and about the same quan
tity of ginger, logwood and alspice, and about seven hun
dred dollars in paper money, probably worth fifty
dollars in specie. My readers must be left to imagine
the feelings of rny parents, when they could number four
sons and seven daughters around their table in health
and prosperity. " In the day of prosperity be joyful,
but in the day of adversity, consider. God also hath
*qt. one over against the other, to the end that man should
find nothing alter him." Eccl. vii. 14.

Ur SITY

CHAPTER II.

Second cruise with Capt. Simpson, in the Ranger —
Third, in the same ship, from Charleston — Chased
into Charleston by the British fleet — Captured —
Small-pox — Came to Newport, /2, /. with Capt. Pow
ers, his master — At Boston heard of his father's death
'—Death of Capt Powers > in Boston — Gets home sick
—Sails in the Alexander— -in the Greyhound — taken
in a prize— imprisoned at Placentia (Newfoundland.}

AFTER a few weeks, or perhaps a few days of pleasing
pastime, the lads must repair to their ships again. It
would seem unmanly for sailors to shed tears at parting
from their friends. But, " judge ye who know a
mother's cares," The downcast look and the trickling
tear upon the cheek of a fond mother and affectionate
sisters, would draw at least a deep sigh from the bosom
of an adventurous boy.

God had graciously concealed from our view the
days of adversity, which in his wise counsel were to
succeed those few days of prosperity.

The Ranger was again ready for sea; the same offi
cers and most of the same crew were going in her again.
I had never been discharged, and of course was consid
ered one of her crew. We rejoined our old consorts,
and cruised to the southward, and in course of the win
ter put into Charleston, S. C. having taken several small
British transports of but little value.

Having replenished our provisions and water, we put
to sea on another cruise, on the coast of Florida and the
southern States.

While on this cruise, a memorable event took place
with me. On the coast of Georgia we fell in with a ship
and gave her chase. We were running toward the land,
and the wind increased to such a degree that orders
were given to reef the topsails. It was the business of
boys, with the assistance of marines, to reef the mizzen
topsail, He who is first aloft goes on the weather yard-

26 MEMOIRS OF

nrm, and passes the earring, so called, viz, secures the
leach or outer edge of the sail to the end of the yard-
arm. As 1 was not fortunate enough to be first, but was
however the second, it was my lot to goon to the lee
yard-arm, and pass the earring. I was followed by sev
eral heavy marines ; the lee lift broke, or as the sailors
would say, parted ; the yard tipped up and down, and
as I was sitting astride the yard, outside the rigging, I
immediately slipped off, having nothiog to support me
except a small piece of rigging about as thick as a man's
little finger. I held on to this small rope until 1 caught
the rigging of the cross jack-yard, and got in on the lee
shrouds. The ship at this time was running at the rate
of ten miles an hour, with quite a rough sea ; so that if
I had gone overboard, it would have been next to impos
sible to have saved me. Night came on, and the ship
that we were chasing escaped us. Shortly after this,
about the middle of Feb. 1780, early in the 'morning, we
discovered four or five large British ships of war to lee-
vard of us, the land being in sight to windward, the en
emy gave us chase. AVe beat up to Charleston Bar,
came to anchor, and waited a little while for the tide to
rise, and then ran in and came to anchor under fort Sul
livan. The British lay several days outside, then light
ened their ships, came in over the bar, and came to
anchor, but durst not approach the fort. They doubt
less recollected the defeat of Sir Peter Parker, before
the same fort, in 17 7G.

It was now ascertained that the enemy meditated an
attack on the city of Charleston, the harbour was com
pletely blockaded. The ships at the bar were soon join
ed by others. The Ranger being the smallest ship of our
squadron, could approach near the shore, and was or
dered to attack a small battery that the enemy had
erected upon James' Island. Our ship having taken her
station, came to anchor before the battery, and with
springs on her cables, commenced cannonading with
great fury, and continued the tiring for an hour and
a half, without cessation. We succeeded in dismount
ing their cannon and obliged their soldiers to quit the

X

/

|UNi

ANDREW SHERBURNEiV IT

>^ /V ,

ground. Our ship received several shots^feJjttK) person
was injured.

At the commencement of the cannonading, I was ex
ceedingly alarmed, but was careful to conceal my feav«5
from my shipmates. After we had discharged a few
broadsides, my fears pretty much subsided, and I, with
high spirits, served my gun with cartridges, until the tir
ing ceased.

Our little ship was once more detached to encounter
a battery above the city ; we commenced our firing a lit
tle before high water, and were obliged to withdraw from
our station shortly before the tide began to ebb. The
tide fell so much before we left our station, that we wero
obliged to employ our boats and small anchors to warp
our ship into deeper water, there being but little wind at
that time.

We were not so successful as we had been with the
battery on James' Island. The battery we had now to
contend with, was so near the British head quarters,
that they received another gun, a 24 pounder. Our
ship received a 24 pound ball, which lodged in her
side, directly against where I stood, it having struck the
salt marsh, which deadened its force, or it must have
gone through the ship, and would of course have killed
me.

Charleston was not so fortified as to stand a regnh.r
siege, and yet we were enabled to make a vigorous de
fence. A chain of redoubts, lines and batteries, extend
ed from Asldey to Cooper's river ; on those rivers was
an almost continued line of batteries. The British hav
ing crossed Ashley river, broke ground on the night of
the first of April, within eight hundred yards of our lines.
About the 9th, the British fleet lying within the bar,
having a fresh wind in their favour, ventured to run by
Sullivan's Island, under a heavy fire from fort Moultrie.
They lost twenty seven seamen killed and wounded, and
one of their transports. They anchored between tha
fort and city, secure from the cannon of both. Our ships
could now no longer be employed to advantage ; their
crews and some of their guns were removed into batte
ries. Capt. Simpson and the Ranger's crew were sta

28 MEMOIRS OF

tioned in a small fort called fort Gadsden;this being the
uppermost one on the river, was much exposed to the fire
of the British. A bomb at one time fell within a few
feet of me: though much alarmed, 1 threw myself behind
the carriage of a large gun, and escaped unhurt. Part
of our officers with rive or six waiters, of whom I was
one, occupied an elegant house owned by a Col. Gadsden;
while here, a bomb fell through the roof and exploded
in the cellar, without injury to any one. While walking
alone on the green, one day, a bomb burst over my head,
and a large piece buried itself in the turf within three
feet of me. At another time, while sitting in the room of
a sick shipmate, a ball struck the house and passed be
tween me and another person who was within two yards
of me ; the bricks and plaster flew on every side, yet we
escaped uninjured. The siege being closely pressed,
balls and shells were continually falling within the city.
I have during the night counted ten bombs of different
sizes, flying in the air at one time. No spot could now
be considered as a place of safety. We were in contin
ual apprehension of an attempt to carry our works
by storm, the force of the enemy being far superior to
ours.

Our provisions being exhausted, we at length capitu
lated on the 12th day of May, 1780. The American
army was commanded by Gen. Lincoln, the British by
Sir Henry Clinton. Our officers were paroled, and al
lowed to retain their waiters ; we were consequently
allowed to be at large within the city. We were for
several days entirely destitute of provisions, except mus
cles, which we gathered from the muscle beds. I was
at this time waiter to Capt. Pierce Powers, who was
master's mate of the Ranger, He treated me with
the kindness of a father, and I was strongly attached to
him. The day after our surrender, a distressing acci
dent occurred. While the British soldiers were depos
iting the muskets taken from us in the grand magazine,
which was bomb proof, the powder in it exploded. The
shock was tremendous, and fatal to many, who were in
stantly hurried into eternity without a moment's warn
ing. I law the print of a man who had been dashed

ANDREW SHERBURXE. 29

against the end of a brick church thirty feet from the
ground, and perhaps thirty rods from the magazine. —
The cause of the explosion I never ascertained. After
our surrender, it was discovered that the small pox pre
vailed among the British troops. Few of the New Eng-
landers had ever had that disease. Our officers deemed
it advisable that we should be inoculated.

Our physicians performed this service for us, but they
having no medicine at their command, could be of n >
other service to us. This disease I much more dread
ed than I did the bombs and balls of the enemy. When
the symptoms came on, I was greatly alarmed, and !-y
prayer applied to God for preservation ; he was graciously
pleased to favour me, though I dare not say that my pray
er was the prayer of faith. I had this disease very fa
vourably. Capt. Powers did all that was in his power
for my relief.

As soon as it was practicable, Capt. Simpson and other
officers procured a small vessel, which was employed as
a cartel, to transport the officers, their boys and baggage
to Newport, Rhode Island, agreeably to the terms of ca
pitulation.

It being difficult to procure suitable casks for water,
they obtained such as they could ; they proved to be
foul, and after we had got to sea, our water became filthy
and extremely noxious. Very few if any on board es
caped an attack of the diarrhoea.

Our passage to Rhode Island was pleasant, though
rather long. A considerable number of us having had
the small pox, it became necessary that we should be
thoroughly cleansed, before we passed through the coun
try. There were little smoke-houses erected on a re
mote part of the island for this purpose ; to these we
repaired, superintended by the police officers ; here our
clothing was all unpacked and thrown about, and our
selves almost suffocated with a smoke made of oakum,
tobacco, Sec.

Having gone through with smoking, we went to a creek
to wash. As I could swim tolerably well, I ventured in
to the current ; it being near low water, my feet were
entangled in eel-grass, and drawn under water and I very
3*

30 MEMOIRS OP

narrowly escaped being drowned ; there being none who
could afford me any assistance. By making every pos
sible effort, I disengaged my feet, and recovered the
shore, not a little alarmed. The lads who were swim
mers expressed their surprise at their inability to swim
at this time. Indeed we were none of us aware of our
weakness. I here had another hair-breadth escape. O
how wonderful, how incomprehensible are the ways of
God.

Capt. Powers hired a passage for himself and me, in
a two horse wagon, to Boston, where he put up at the
sign of the golden ball, not far from the market ; this
house was kept by a Mr. Cox, a free mason ; my mas
ter was also of that fraternity. The roads at that time
were very different from what they now are. The con
trast between the motion of a vessel on the water, and
that of a wagon over such a rough road, is very great. —
The jolting of the wagon proved very unfavourable to us
in our weak state. The free masons paid particular at
tention to my master. He was immediately confined to
his bed and placed under the care of a physician. —
Though weak and without appetite, I was with difficulty
able to keep about. My two uncles who were captured
with me at Charleston, had gone in a cartel directly to
Philadelphia. During the time that Boston had been
occupied by the British troops, (1774, 1776,) a gentle
man by the name of Drown, an inhabitant of Boston, but
with his family removed to Epping, N. H. where he re
sided in the house of my uncle Johnston. Having form
ed an intimate acquaintance with grandmother, he had
learned that she had two sons arid a grandson on board
the Ranger. Having ascertained that part of the Ran
ger's crew had returned to Boston, Mr. Drown, now re
siding in Boston, made diligent enquiry after us. He
called at the house of Mr. Cox, while I was at an apoth
ecary's shop, and gave information that my father was
no more! My master, deeply afflicted, requested Mr*.
Cox to inform me, rather than to communicate the dis
tressing intelligence himself. On my return, Mrs. Cox
took me into another apartment, and with much sympathy
made known to me the matter. My readers can better

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 31

judge of my feelings than I can express them. I having
passed some time in tears and reflection,went into my mas
ter's chamber. He readily perceived that I had received
the heart-rending intelligence, and was himself quite af
fected. Said he '; Andrew, you have met with a great loss,
I am very sorry for you ; I don't know how it will turn with
met but I hope you won't leave me. I suppose you are
desirous to get home, but I am unwilling to part with
you. I have no child, and if I should live, and you will
live with me, I will make you my son, and will endeav
our to make a man of you. I am now looking for Mrs.
Powers every day ; I hope you won't leave me, Andrew.
If I should live, I will do all I can for you.5' This friend
ly address much affected me. I loved the man, and
although I had a great desire to get home, I could not
leave him. His time however was short. 1 think he
died the next day or the day after. I was much grieved
for the loss of such a kind and faithful friend. He was
indeed a father to me. I wa*s now a poor orphan, not yet
fifteen years old, without relatives or acquaintance in
Boston, sick and without money. But the Lord has al
ways been very gracious in raising friends for me. Mr.
and Mrs. Cox felt much for me and endeavoured to com
fort me. They thought I had better try to get home. —
Mr. Cox said there was no coaster in from Portsmouth,
at that time, and that there might not be any in for a week
or more ; that if I should set out by land, I should proba
bly get some assistance in my journey along. The dis
tance to Portsmouth was about 60 miles.

The day after my master's death, by Mr. Cox's direc
tion, I placed his clothing, Sft. in his chest,locked it and
took the key to carry to Mrs. Powers.

Mr. Cox gave me five or six paper dollars, and his
best counsel and wishes. The tears flowed plentifully
from Mrs. Cox's eyes, while in broken accents she gave
me her benediction. I set out in the fore part of the
day, (Mrs. Powers arrived in the evening.) With my
little budget I stalked down to the ferry, just as the fer
ryman had arrived fiom the opposite shore. My mea
gre appearance immediately excited his attention, and
ascertaining I was from prison, and that I wished to cross

32 MEMOIRS OF

the ferry, he went directly over with me, without wait
ing for any other passenger, gave me my passage and
his best wishes. My complaint had now become a con
firmed dysentery, and I found myself poorly able to trav
el ; I had not walked a mile before I was obliged to lie
down under a shade, by the road side, in great pain. —
After a while the pain in some measure abated, and such
extreme debility succeeded, that I felt great difficulty in
attempting to walk again, and feared I should never
get home. A train of melancholy reflections overwhelmed
my mind ; I wept, I wept bitterly. My father was dead,
my master, a second father, was no more. I could re
member the sympathy he expressed for me, but could
profit nothing by it at this time.

I was in pain. I knew not whether I could rise on
my feet, or if I could rise whether I could walk. Hav
ing wept until my tears were exhausted, my bosom
would again and again swell with sorrow. I cannot now
sav, whether in all this conflict, I attempted to pray.
I however attempted to rise and with difficulty succeed
ed, picked up my little budget and slowly pursued my
journey. I had walked quite too fast from the ferry, and
too far without resting. I now walked cautiously and
rested frequently. As I was passing a house in Lynn, I
was noticed by a woman who stood in her door; she came
immediately into the road to me, asked me a few quest
ions, and insisted upon my going into the house. We
were met at the door by another tender hearted mother ;
they had one or both of them a son or sons in the army.
I being seated, they stood over me and wept freely.

The best which their house afforded was at my service.
I partook sparingly of such as they prescribed. In the
presence of those ladies, I put off the effeminate mourn
er. My spirits were considerably revived, and I found
that by walking slowly and resting frequently, I could
make the best progress ; that night I got to NewelPs
tavern in Lynn, at that time one of the most celebrated
taverns in JNew England. I think the old gentleman's
name was Timothy, he had a hare lip. He gratuitously
entertained me and gave me good counsel.

The next day I had an opportunity of riding several

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 33

miles in the bottom of a chaise, in which two gentlemen
were riding, and put up at the Bell tavern in Danvers.
In about seven or eight days I arrived at Portsmouth ;
there I found my mother a widow, having only two of her
children with her, Betsey, about twelve years old, and
Sally, her youngest, about one. My brother Thomas
had sailed for the West Indies in December, with Capt.
Peter Shores in a little vessel; Capt. Stackpole and Capt.
Jones had each of them sailed in company with Capt.
Shores. They had now been gone long enough to have
made two voyages to the West Indies, but there was no
intelligence from them, nor has there ever been any to
this day. Without doubt they all foundered in a violent
gale of wind, which arose shortly after their departure.
My sister Martha was living at my uncle Samuel Sher-
burne's, on the ancient farm. The death of her father,
and the fate of her brothers weighed her spirits down.
She was eighteen months older than myself, and after
wards became the wife of Mr. Edmund Davis, of Ports
mouth.

Little did I expect to have found such changes in the
family in one year. The reader will judge of my feelings
under such circumstances. Dr. A. R. Cutter, one of
the most celebrated physicians in the country and one of
the most amiable of men, was called for, and I think
nearly two months elapsed before I recovered so as to be
capable of any business. There was no employment
of any consequence for me on shore, unless I should go
into the army. I preferred the sea and was very de
sirous of doing something for the family. My father
was by occupation a carpenter, he left no estate and the
avails of my former cruise were pretty much exhausted.

My mother was now industriously employed in spin
ning, knitting, and sewing for others, but principally in
spinning linen ; this was now her only means of support
ing herself and children who were with her. My moth
er would sit at her wheel for hours, diligent and pensive,
without uttering a word, while now and then the tears
would roll down her cheeks, and when she broke silence
she perhaps narrated some event which transpired in my
father's day, or referred to some event respecting her
dear Thomas, her first born.

34 MEMOIRS OP

As the Hanger was built in Portsmouth and had fallen
into the hands of the enemy, the patriotic merchants of
Portsmouth were anxious to retrieve their loss ; they
built a beautiful ship, which mounted twenty guns and
called her the Alexander, and gave Capt, Simpson the
command of her ; .Elijah Hall, Ksq. who was first Lieut,
of the Ranger, was also second in command on board
the Alexander ; he was a worthy character and much be
loved by the officers and crew. A considerable number of
the Hanger's oflicers and crew occupied the same station
on board this ship, they had previously occupied on
board the Ranger. Having been invited by ('apt. Simp
son, to try my fortune with him again, I readily accepted
the invitation.

We sailed from Portsmouth in December 1780, and
cruised upwards of three months, but took nothing; we
never gave chase to any vessel without coming up with
her, but we never met with an enemy. Our cruise was
designed for three months, but, as we could get no
prize, we prolonged it and our provision failed, so that
we carne to half allowance before we got in, and we re
ally suffered for water.

1 left with my mother the power of attorney, with di
rections to sell any part of my share she might think
proper. She sold one fourth part, for about seventy
dollars, to a former acquaintance and was to take coun
try produce, this answered a valuable purpose; it pro
cured fodder for her cow, firewood, &c.

On my return, I found my mother and family in health,
but no news from Thomas. I began to feel as if tho
care of the family would devolve on me and I felt zealous
to render them all the help in my power. Our friends
and neighbors began to extol me for my attention to my
mother and sister, and I was emulous to redeem the
pledge.

The Alexander was a fine ship and the fastest sailing
ship I was ever acquainted with. She was preparing for
the second cruise and I had been invited to try my for
tune in her again, and had concluded to accept the in
vitation ; but a circumstance occurred which gave mo
a different direction.

SttERBURNE. 35

1 was walking the street one clay, and being in a sea-
inan's garb, was readily recognised as a sailor and was
overtaken by a jolly tar, who accosted me in the follow
ing manner. 4i Ha, shipmate, don't you wish to take a
short cruise in a fine schooner ar:d make your fortune f'3
I replied that 1 expected to sail in the Alexander. " O
we shall get back," said he/4 beibre the Alexander will
get ready to sail."

The young man was Capt. Jacob Wilds, of Kenne-
bunkport, in Maine ; his schooner was called the Grey
hound, she was fitted out in Salem, Massachusetts. She
had been a bank fisherman, but being now finely painted,
with a new and longer set of masts and spars, and having
her ensign und pennant flying? she made quite a warlike
appearance. She mounted eight four pounders and was.
of about sixty tons burden. A Capt. Arnold, (of
whom I shall have occasion to speak more particularlj
hereafter) was the only person who was going on board
the Greyhound from Portsmouth. Ho was first prize-
master and was very solicitous that 1 should go with him.
He was the only person on board, >vhose face I had ev
er seen before, and with him, 1 had but a very slight ac
quaintance. I was then in my sixteenth year and pretty
well grown; the Capt. promised that I should have a
full share and made me many fair promises, and he proy-
ed punctual. He told me he should go into Old York,
(a small port, three leagues east of Poitsmouth) and that
if 1 would goon board his vessel, and goto York, if
I did not like the vessel and ciew, he would pay iny
expenses back to Portsmouth again.

Privateering had now become the order of the day,
and in many instances small vessels had as good success
as large ones, though it was difficult to get a sufficient
number of hands to man them. 1 was induced to go on
board with Capts. Wilds and Arnold, and to go as far as
York. Having got on board I was, by Capt. Wilds, with
something of ceremony introduced to the officers, and I
found indeed a jovial company. She had a full comple
ment of officers, two or three ordinary seamen before the
mast, and between twenty and thirty boys, scarcely one
of them as large as myself, and some of them not a doz
en rear* old. I was taken into the cabin and careised

3G MEMOIRS OF

by Capt. Wilds and his officers, and spent a long and jo
vial evening ; I was invited to sing them a song, and in
the course of the evening entertained them with several.
In this no doubt there was management with Capt.
Wilds and his officers; they found it very difficult to ob
tain hands ; I was not yet secured and they wished that
I might become attached to them.

The next day having got under way, we ran down to
York, and it became necessary for Capt. Wilds to lay
some plan to increase his crew in this place,for in Ports
mouth he had very poor success ; the Capt. had gained
some information of the state of things at York by the
pilot, who piloted us into the harbor ; he therefore laid
a plan to get up a frolic at a public house, and suitable
persons were employed to invite the lads and lasses for
a country dance. Rum, coffee, sugar, biscuit, &c. were
taken on shore from the privateer, for the purpose, and
the frolic went on. Having but one fiddler and the
company being large, it became necessary to have dan
cing in more than one room ; I was selected by some of
the officers, to sing for some of the dancers ; this suited
my turn, for I was no proficient in dancing. Every art
and insinuation wras employed by the officers to obtain
recruits ; they succeeded in getting two only that even
ing, one by the name of Sweet, and the other by the
name of Babb.

The next day was to me, one of the most memorable
days of my life ; such gloom and horror fell upon my
mind as I never before experienced, such melancholy
and despondency as I never before or since have felt, and
which it is impossible for me to describe. I resolved to
return home, but even in this resolution I could not an
ticipate the least degree of relief, and the voyage before
me looked as gloomy as death ; had I been on a single
plank, in the midst of the ocean, my condition could not
have appeared more hopeless. While in this forlorn condi
tion it came into my mind to go on board the vessel which
now lay at the wharf, and pray ; accordingly I went on
board (the people being mostly on shore) and sought a
place of retirement, and after some time spent in contem
plation, I attempted to pray. The gloom in some meas-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 37

ure subsided. I disclosed my intention to the Capt. he
acknowedged my right to return if I chose, but express
ed great unwillingness to part with me; he engaged Capt.
Arnold and other officers in his interest to persuade me to
stay and spend one more evening with them ; they were
so urgent that they finally overcame me, and I reluctant
ly gave my consent. The evening was spent as ha'd
been the preceding evening, and they obtained one
more hand only. I think his name was Preble.

The Capt. was satisfied that this was not the place
for him to make up his crew and was determined to push
farther eastward and gained my consent to go the cruise.
We left York with a design to call at Cape Porpoise in
Arundel, now called Kennebunkport. At this place
dwelt the Captain's father, who was an old sea Captain
and had acquired a handsome estate and now occupied
one of the best farms in that region. Our Capt. was but
about twenty-two years of age ; he had been absent
several years sailing from Salem and other ports, and
being now in the place of his nativity, there was no diffi
culty in getting up a frolic ; this plan was resorted to,
but to little purpose, for we obtained but one hand ; his
name was Samuel Wilds, a kinsman of the Capt. a lad
about sixteen. I shall have occasion to say something
of him hereafter.

The harbor of Cape Porpoise was but very little re
sorted to except by coasters and fishermen; there was
by no means a dense population in this place, a vessel
of so rakish an appearance as the Greyhound, with such
a flaming flag and streaming pennants, was quite a nov
elty. The Captain's barge was rowed with four earsonly,
and I had the honor of being steersman of this little
barge, and when we put off from along side, the Capt.
was honored with a gun and three cheers, from the crew;
this was something unusual, but we were privateers-
men.

We left Cape Porpoise, for the port of Falmouth, now
called Portland, which had been burnt in the commence
ment of the revolution, by Capt. Mowatt, who command
ed his Majesty's ship Cancer. We made but a short
stop at this place and got one hand only, and a poor
4

38 MEMOIRS OF

thing he was. There was now no further prospect of
increasing our crew, we were obliged to try our fortune
with what we had and put to sea.

I very much regretted that I had ever seen the Grey
hound ; my melancholy which commenced at York,
had by no means snbsided ; at times I felt fearful fore
bodings, but endeavored to put the best side out, for
it was by no means becoming a young sailor to discov
er a want of fortitude ; I endeavored to suppress all
gloomy reflections and make the best of a bad bargain.

There was a lad on board, by the name of William
Deadman, near my age, but not so heavy; he was quite
active and very persevering; he and myself were always
called upon to do whatever was to be done aloft and
were each of us emulous not to be outdone by the other.
William was a worthy lad and there was always perfect
harmony between us ; we had the praise of the officers
and were much caressed by them. We met with noth
ing worth noticing, until we got off against Halifax; we
were there chased by a topsail-schooner, larger than
ours ; we had a fresh gale and a heavy sea, we carried
sail so long, that we were much in danger of carrying
away our masts; the vessel chasing us, was a much fas
ter sailer than ours, and of course, came up with us ;
but before she came up, we were obliged to take in our
topsail. In taking in the fore-topsail alone, I very nar
rowly escaped being thrown off the yard, which was but
a small spar, not much larger than a man's leg, and
consequently, could afford but little support to what a
large spar would. The pitching, and rolling of the ves
sel, rendered my situation dangerous beyond descrip
tion. I even now shudder at the thought of my then
perilous condition ; millions would not induce me to run
such a risk again. The schooner in chase of us, prov
ed to be an American privateer, called the Blood Hound.
We found that our privateers were numerous on this
coast.

After this we adventured to take a peep into Halifax.
As we drew near the harbor, we discovered a ship, ap
parently in distress, aiming to get in. We began to
hope she mi^ht be a prize for us; \ve were not however

ANDREW

without suspicion, and the nearer we approached her
the more our suspicion increased, and at length wr>
thought best to draw off. We had no sooner shifted
our course, than she got up her topgallant yard, set
her topgallant sails, and gave us chase, and we soon dis
covered that she gained on us ; we now began to dread
Halifax prison. She chased us several hours and continu
ed to gain on us; the wind was light, and fortunately for
us, it became foggy, and by manoauvring, we eluded her.

We had hoped to intercept some merchantman going
in, but now feared to lurk about this harbor, as some
privateers had previously done, and had got rich prizes.
The British had found out some of our yankee tricks,
and were looking out for us. Our Captain thought it
best to be off from this ground, and try our luck on the
eastern shore and about the mouth of the St. Lawrence.
As we proceeded we had a trying time amongst the
islands ; we could look in no direction without seeing a
sail, and we soon found that we should be under the
necessity of speaking some of them.

By their manoeuvring we suspected that they were in
league with each other, and were at a loss to determine
whether they were friends or foes.

There were none which were as large as our vessel,
and we supposed that we should have nothing to fear
from any one of them ; but if they should prove to be
enemies, we should have more than two to encounter,
but having spoken with one or two of them; we ascer
tained that they were all Americans.

We all took up our quarters, that night, in a harbor
not inhabited; I think it was called Beaver Harbor;
and when all collected, I believe there were seven or
eight sail, all smaller than the Greyhound, and some of
them not more than filteen or twenty tons.

There were too many instances in which those pica
roons plundered the defenceless inhabitants of the
British possessions. The next day we parted with all
this squadron, except one, who agreed to keep company
with us, and we soon parted with her.

W e visited a cluster of islands called the Bird Isl
ands and procured perhaps a half a dozen bushels of

40 MEMOIRS OF

eggs, of different sizes, such as those of wild geese,
gannets, gulls, ducks, Sec. It was interesting to see
the management of so many different tribes of the feath
ered race ; their nests were almost as thick as hills
of corn, in a field. Those islands I believe did not
contain more than an acre or two each, and some
less than an acre. Low bushes grew on them,
but no trees. When we landed it excited a general
alarm. The birds would rise in masses, and in their
different dialects, remonstrate against our intrusions ;
for indeed, our conduct towards them, was not only rude,
but barbarous; nor were we very fortunate in our plun
der, for many of the eggs were unfit for use, havin g
been set on too long, nor indeed, were the best of them
a very delicious morsel to me ; in the season of them,
the Newfoundlanders use them as a substitute for bread.
I have seen a Newfoundland shallop almost loaded with
them.

We visited the Island of St. Peter's, at the mouth of
Fortune Bay, in Newfoundland: this had been a French
settlement of some consequence, but h'ad recently been
entirely destroyed, by the British; another beautiful
island, called Micland, had shared the same fate. At
St. Peter's we took out our guns, and hauled our vessel
on a beautiful beach, and cleaned her bottom in order
to facilitate her sailing.

Near this Island, we fell in with a Newfoundland
shallop owned and commanded by Charles Grundy; he
had been to St. John's after salt, for his own use ; he
was an independent English fisherman. I do not mean
that he was a man of fortune ; only that he was inde
pendent of the En£»lish merchants in whose service, al
most all the fishermen were employed. We detained
Grandy some time, and examined him very closely, and
were informed by him, that an English brig had recent
ly entered the bay, with supplies for the fishing station?,
we gave Charley some pork and bread, and dismissed
him to his great joy, for he fared much better than his
countrymen generally did, when they fell into the hands
of American privateersmen.

We flattered ourselves, that we should fall in with this
brig, and obtain a fine prize. We sailed up the bay,

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 41

visited several ports where fishing was carried on, upon
a large scale, but found nothing of the brig, but were in
formed that one was expected. Those ports had been
before visited by privateers who had plundered them.
Our Captain strictly forbade every thing of this kind.
Having failed in our enterprise respecting the said brig,
the Captain took two of the best shallops he could find,
which belonged to merchants in England, and loaded
them with oil and dry fish, which was the property c f
said merchants.

These shallops being loaded, were both committed to
the care of Capt. Arnold, who went on board the largest
of the'm; he was to have two hands with him; one, he was
to select himself, and Capt. Wilds was to select the
othe.r. Arnold chose me, and Capt. Wilds selected James
Annrfg. Jasper Loid, an old Cape Ann fishes-nan, had
the charge of the other shall6p, (subject, however, to
Capt. Arnold,) and with him, were Samuel Wilds and
Samuel Babb.

We left the privateer at Micland, in the mouth of
Fortune Bay, and set out for Salem ; but the wind head
ed us and we put back, and anchored in the harbor of
the Island of Micland. A dark cloud seemed now to
be brooding over me, and the storm with which I had
(at least in anticipation) been threatened, was now
about to burst upon me. The wind was decidedly ahead
and it was something of a risk to cross the gulf of St.
Lawrence in so small a vessel, and it was also a risk to
pass by Halifax. We lay wind bound in Micland, sever
al days.

As we were in a snug harbor, where there were no
inhabitants, we did not keep a watch at night. One
morning when I came on deck, I perceived that Capt.
Arnold was very different from what I had ever seen
him; he had appeared rather low spirited, from the time
the privateer left us, and now appeared in some meas
ure deranged ; he was remarkably sportive for some time,
and on a sudden seemed to have something lie with
great weight on his mind. In the evening he requested
me to get a light and come into the cabin to him. I
complied with his request, and tarried with him all night,
4*

42 MEMOIRS OF

Neither of us slept any : he talked without cessatian all
night, and upon almost every subject imaginable ; some
times he would seem to talk rationally, for a few minutes
and would then appear completely deranged again.
From some circumstances, I had the impression that he
had an awful dread of falling into the hands of the ene
my. It was said that he and others had run away from
Halifax with a king's cutter, but I do not recollect
whether I had this hint from himself or others. In the
morning he appeared very cheerful, and full of business,
and quite inoffensive, and generally disposed to hearken
to my advice. In the course of the day, he seemed to
imagine himself on board the privateer and would fre
quently speak to this and the other officer, and reply as
though they answered him. When night came on, I ad
vised him to go into his cabin. I made his bed and
proposed to him to lie d^wn, he complied without hesi
tation and was still. 1 thought it a fortunate circum-
strace that I had got him into his cabin, and was deter
mined to secure him. I shut the door and buttoned it
on the outside ; I then took a round stick of wood, which
was sawn off square at each end, and seven or eight
inches in diameter, set one end against the door and the
other end against a bulkhead, which was about three
and a half feet from the door; the billet of wood would
admit of tacking a piece oi board to one end of it, and it
then of suitable length to secure the door. I pressed
it down with my whole weight and thought the door per
fectly secure; and, having had no sleep the night before,
I turned in.

The captain made no noise, and as he had slept none
the night before, I flattered myself that he might rest
comfortably, he being then perfectly still. As for James
Annjs he seemed to be a very shiftless and stupid being;
he was very low spirited, but had slept well the night be
fore. The weather was very pleasant and we had noth
ing to disturb us through the night. In the morning
Annis went on deck between day and sunrise, but soon
returned in great surprise, saying, " Sherburne, where
is Capt. Arnold?" I answered he is in the cabin. t( He
is aot on board," said Annis ; I went immediately on

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 43

deck and saw the cabin door open, I looked in and could
find nothing of the captain, his clothes all lay on deck
except his waistcoat ; his shirt lay on the top of his
clothes and his silver sleeve buttons lay upon his shirt. —
The reader will judge of my surprise and distress on
this awful occasion !

The water being smooth and clear, and being but
about twelve or fifteen feet deep, and the bottom white
sand, was plainly to be seen. The other shallop being
\vhhin fifty yards of us, and they having the skiff, we
hailed them and informed them of the circumstance, and
requested them to come with the boat, which they did.
We went round and round the shallop, enlarging our
circle and viewing the bottom very carefully for a con
siderable distance, and then went on shore and walked
round the beach to see if we could discover any tracks
of bare feet in the sand, but all our endeavours to find
him were abortive. The question now was, what shall we
do ? Loyd was no navigator, though he was well ac
quainted with the eastern shore. His plan was to take
both shallops under his command, and endeavor to get
them to Salem. He flattered himself that he should
have a deserving share if he should succeed.

I proposed that we should all take the best shallop,
and take the sails and light rigging off the other and
endeavor to make the best of our way home, but the
old man would not consent.

Ours was the largest and best of the two, and of course
had the best cargo, but theirs had the best sails. I then
proposed that Annis and myself should go on board with
him and quit ours, but he would not agree to this.

I felt myself in a critical situation. I was not yet six
teen years of age. Annis knew not a point of the com
pass, he had never attempted to steer, knew nothing
about working the vessel, and appeared quite low spirit
ed and stupid. We were yet in an enemy's country,
had to cross the gulf of St. Lawrence, and get by Halifax
(if we could.) and the wind yet against us. The thoughts
of taking charge of this little vessel, and taking her
to the United States, with all these difficulties to en
counter, together with the uncertainty of the weather,

44 MEMOIRS OF

was extremely embarrassing. The inflexibility, folly
and unfriendliness of old Mr. Loyd, increased my per
plexity and excited my grief, as well as my resentment.
But he had very much the advantage of me, and I was
obliged to submit to my fate. JNight came on and when
the sun sank from the western horizon, and the sable
curtains of night were drawn around me, I retired to the
cabin with Annis, with a deep gloom upon my mind. —
My thoughts were much employed upon Captain Arnold,
his wife and children. They lived within half a mile of
my mother, yet I had but little acquaintance with them
or with Captain Arnold himself, until within six or eight
weeks. He considered himself as my guardian, (as did
the worthy Captain Powers,) and was very partial to me,
and I much respected him. I do not know that I slept
any that night. I retraced the trials through which I
had passed, and attempted to look forward, but all was
darkness. It may well be thought that at that time of
life I could cry; but whether I attempted to look to God
for protection and direction, I cannot now say.

The next day the wind was more favourable but rath
er light. We got under weigh. Annis could assist me
in getting up the anchor, and hoisting the sails, but he
knew not how to trim them to the wind, nor could he
steer. Common sense may judge whether I was to steer
this little vessel all the way to the United States. It is
true that Annis might in a few days learri to steer his
trick, as the sailor calls his tour at the helm, but it must
devolve on me to stand at the helm all the succeeding
night. At about noon we discovered a ship, and soon
ascertained that she wished to speak with us ; she chas
ed us several hours, but the wind d)'ing away, she sent
her boats. They took Mr. Loyd on board and examined
him. She was an armed vessel of about eighteen or
twenty guns, and no doubt she was an American priva
teer, but was not honorable enough to let us know what
she was, or who commanded her. The boat which
boarded us, plundered us of some fishing necs, lines, &c.
and let us pass.

Towards night I spoke with Loyd and entreated him
to consider my situation \ that I should be obliged to

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 45

stand at the helm all night ; I plead with him to let Sam
uel Wilds come on board with me, flnd take Annis
on board with him. To this he agreed, and Wilds con
sented, greatly to my relief. Mr. Loyd could not
have compelled Wilds to have left his own vessel, and
there could be no doubt that Annis would prefer taking
his chance with an old sailor.

Early in the evening, we had something of a breeze,
and it continued to increase, and by midnight we had
quite a gale, and our vessel seemed to labor hard. The
night was dark ; neither moon or stars could be seen.
We could not " cast anchors out of the stern," as did
Paul's company off Malta. We no doubt as earnestly
wished for day as they did, and when the day arose, al
though so desirable, yet it was only to discover to us
more visibly our danger. Our consort was about half
a mile ahead of us ; the clouds looked wild and ocean
rough. We had lost our boat which was towing at our
stern. At about sunrise we split our mainsail from top
to bottom, and with difficulty got it down and secured it.
At that moment we were obliged to put away before the
wind, and scud under a whole foresail which was almost
new. It would have been much in our favor if our fore
sail had been reefed, which would have reduced it at
least a quarter part ; but it was impracticable for one
boy to get this sail down, reef it, and set it again ; our
foremast was now in great danger from having so much
sail upon it, for the wind was not steady but blew in
gusts, and when a heavy gust came, our foremast would
bend like a whip. Our vessel being heavy laded, labor
ed hard in so rough a sea, which occasioned her to leak
so much as to keep one of us bailing most of the time,
while the other must stand at the helm.

It was not a little distressing to be und v the necessi
ty of leaving the other shallop, for we were dependant on
Loyd to pilot us along the eastern shore. We were
now scudding before the wind ; they were steering
nearly at right angles from us, but in less than half an
hour they were obliged to put .away also : this was an
alleviation to our distress for a short season, but we were
soon depressed again. The gale increased and of course

46 MEMOIRS OF

the sea was more boisterous, and the leak increased ;
we were very fearful that we could not weather the gale,
and every moment expected that our mast and sail
would go over the bow ; and in that case, we should
have foundered in a few minutes. At about 12 o'clock,
we discovered land directly ahead of us ; it proved to be
a small island, and it seemed impossible for us to avoid
running right on it, and in that case we must have been
dashed to pieces at the first blow.

It now seemed as if our fate was sealed. We ven
tured to bear off a little but could not possibly look clear
of the island. The time now was short ere our case
would be determined, for we were running at least at
ihe rate of twelve or fourteen miles an hour. The oth
er shallop was on our starboard beam, at least a half a
mile distant, and could easily clear away the island. It
was not perhaps more than fifty rods diameter. It was
our constant care to haul as much as possible to the
right, and some times we could just look by ; I kept the
helni all the while by Wilds' request, as he considered
rne the best helmsman. As we drew near the island
our case looked more favorable ; when we got within a
mile of the island we could look just clear of it. This
circumstance I think must have been owing to the cur
rent, which must have been setting to the west at that
lime. There was, however, a reef of rocks, which ran
off from the island, over which we must and did pass
without striking, and cleared the island perhaps about
twenty yards, and as soon as we passed it drew imme
diately up under its lee : had we been twenty yards fur
ther from the island, where the rocks seemed to be the
nearest to the surface of the water, we should have stove
in pieces. Mr. Loyd with the other shallop passed just
without the r<-:f, which did not extend more than sixty or
seventy yards from the island. We all arrived about
the same time and came to anchor in a small cove, with
in thirty yards of the shore, and in about ten fathoms of
water. The shore was very bold, and the island a little
mound. Thus in the kind providence of God, we were
delivered froni a most perilous condition. I can hardly
«ay h»w my mind was occupied about a future state ;

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 47

under such circumstances sailors generally exert every
power to save the body, and too of ten without any regard
for the immortal soul,

I perfectly recollect that I was awfully afraid of death,
nor can I bring again to view the danger 1 was in,
without shuddering and admiring the kind and merci
ful interposition of a gracious God. It is utterly impos
sible, however, for me to describe in full, the alternate
hopes and fears which pervaded my mind during that
dangerous scene.

It was now more than twenty-four hours since I had
taken any food, and I presume that this was the case
with most of the company : it was therefore an object
to get some refreshment as soon as practicable.

We hove over a hook and line and very soon drew in
a large halibut, and doubtless could have taken in an
hundred, if we had been disposed. One however an
swered our purpose, and we soon had some cooker v
going on while congratulating each other on our escape
from destruction. We laid the two shallops as^ear each
other as we dared, for although there was no sea, there
was a very heavy swell. Although we seemed secure
in this place, if the wind had shifted and blown from the
opposite point, nothing could have saved us.

It was not our intention however to continue long in
this place. Two nights had now passed, and I had got
no sleep, and was quite worn down with anxiety and fa
tigue. It was very appalling to notice in what quick
succession my conflicts rushed upon me; occasionally I
would think of the gloom which so depressed my spirits
in York harbour. Wilds tarried with me that night. but
told me he should not go to sea again in that shallop. —
I found it necessary to secure his confidence and friend
ship, and I had no great pains to take in doing
this, for I found we were of the same opinion. It
was my determination to quit the shallop in case that
Wilds did. I therefore brought him to this agreement,
that upon his honor he would not oppose my going on
board Loyd's shallop. I had nothing to fear from Babb
or Annis, but I expected to find Mr. Loyd of a hostile
temper. He was a man probably fifty years of age ; and

43

MEMOIRS OF

although I had but one night's rest in four, I did not
sleep much on this night, knowing what must take place
on the morrow.

On the next morning it was quite pleasant. We got
breakfast early, and the shallops were drawn so near
each other that we could pass from one to the other. —
Wilds went on board his own vessel again ; 1 went also.
I asked Mr. Loyd what we should do ? "Do," said he,
il why I must help you mend your mainsail, and try it
again." 1 remonstrated against the measure and ob
served that Wilds declined continuing with me, and that
it was out of the question to think of getting both of the
shallops home, and finally told him plainly that I had
quit, and was determined to make no further attempt on
board of her, and was determined to stay on board his
vessel. He began to swear and threaten me ; I retorted
and told him that I disregarded his threats, and that I
was willing to be in subjection and to do my duty. Ko
one interfered, and the old gentleman began to be mod
erate, but was determined to take the other shallop in
tow. In short we got under weigh, had but a light
breeze, and in the course of an hour or two discovered
a small schooner making towards us ; we had various
conjectures respecting her. We sometimes thought
whether it might not be another prize that the privateer
had taken. Shortly, however, most of us were rather in
clined to think it was an enemy. She continued to gain
upon us and we discovered that her crew were rowing ;
we were all convinced she was an enemy, except Mr.
Loyd. We tried to persuade him to cut the shallop
adrift, and try to be off with one, but he declined. —
They soon began to fire upon us, with long buccanier
pieces, into which they put eight or ten musket balls for
a charge. The first time they fired, they did not strike
us, but we heard their bullets whistle over our heads ;
the second time their charge went through the head of
our mainsail, and the third time it went through the mid
dle of our mainsail. The old gentleman thought it was
time to heave to, in order to ascertain who were our vis
itors. In a few moments they were along side of us, and
twenty men sprang on board with these long guns in

ANDREW 3HERBURN5. 49

their hands, loaded, cocked and primed, and presented
two or three at each of our breasts, without ceremony,
cursing us bitterly, and threatening our lives; we plead
tor quarters, but they with violence reprimanded us, and
seemed determined to take our lives, after they had suf
ficiently gratified themselves with the most bitter impre
cations that language could afford. There were one or
two who interceded for us. One of these was their com
mander, but their entreaties seemed to increase the
rage of some of the others. We stood trembling and
awaiting their decisions, not presuming to. remonstrate,
for some of them seemed like perfect furies. At length
their captain and several others who appeared more ra
tional, prevailed on those heady fellows to forbear their
rashness. Their first business was to get their prizes
under way for their own port or harbor, which was call
ed Grandbank.

By this time, say two or three o'clock P. M. there was
quite a pleasant breeze. The Newfoundlanders (for I
am inclined for the present, to forbefr calling them Eng
lish, or the Irish,) made it their business to go into par
ticular inquiries respecting what had transpired with us
since we left the bay. They having some of us on board
each vessel: Capt. Arnold had a copy of the privateer's
commission; this paper I had preserved, though I could
not read it. The wind being fair, we arrived at Grand-
bank before night, and almost the whole village were
collected to see the Yankee prisoners. We were taken
on shore, and soon surrounded, perhaps, by a hundred
people. Amongst them was an old English lady of dis
tinction, who appeared to have an excellent education,
and to whose opinion and instructions they all seemed to
pay an especial deference. She was the only person
amongst them who inquired after papers. Mr. Loyd had
none; I did not know that he or any other person present,
knew that it was necessary that we should have papers,ex-
cept this old lady. I presented the papers I had preserved;
this lady took them, and commenced reading them audi
bly, and without interruption, until she read the clause in
the privatejer's letter of marque and reprisal,which author-
5

50 MEMOIRS OF

ized to "burn, sink, or destroy," &c. &c. Many of the
people became so exceedingly exasperated, that they
swore we ought to be killed outright. They were chief
ly West countrymen and Irishmen; rough, and quite un
cultivated, and were in. a state of complete anarchy;
there was neither magistrate nor minister among them;
they appeared very loyal, however, to his Majesty.

The old lady interposed, and soon called them to or
der: she informed them that we were prisoners of war,
and ought to be treated with humanity, and conveyed to
a BritisEi armed station. She then went on with her
reading and closed without further interruption.

This good woman gave direction and they began to
prepare some refreshment for us; they hung on a pot and
boiled some corned codfish and salted pork: when it was
sufficiently boiled, they took the pot out of doors, where
there was a square piece of board which had a cleat on
each edge, the corners being open, they then turned the
pot upside down upon the board, and when the water was
sufficiently drained] away, the board was set on a table
or rather a bench, something higher than a common ta
ble, and the company stood round this table without
plates o. forks; they had fish knives to cut their pork,
but generally picked up the fish with their fingers, and
had hard baked biscuit for their bread generally.

Having taken our refreshment, we were conducted
nto a cooper's shop and locked up, the windows secured
and a guard placed outside. Wo endeavored to com
pose ourselves as well as we could, but remained igno
rant how we were to be disposed of.

The next morning we were put on board a shallop,
and confined in the fish room, which was a very uncom
fortable place; every thing was taken from us, except
what we had upon our backs, even our shoes were taken
from our feet. We were taken up the bay to a small
harbor, called Cornish; this was the residence of Charles
Grandy, whom we had captured when we first came on
the coast; nor did he forget the kindness he had received
from us; he appeared willing to have done more for us than
was in his power to do. He presented us with a large
flour loaf and a plate of butter. He seemed to be gene
ralissimo of this little port; there were but few fam-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 51

iiies here, and they all appeared to be in Charley's
service.

Having taken our refreshment, we were locked up in
a warehouse, and carefully guarded. Next morning we
took an early breakfast, furnished by our good friend
Grandy, whose partiality towards us was evidently dis
gusting to some of our guard.

We were taken six or eight miles up a river, and
landed, in order to strike across the cape to Placcntia
bay. We were guarded by seven sturdy fellows, with
their long muskets; some of them were very rude, and
not a little abusive; they called the distance from Fo/-
tune bay over to Placentia bay, twenty miles; it passed
through a most dreary wilderness. The timber in general
was small, but there was an abundance of briars and
craggy underbrush, which was very injurious to our feet
and legs, our shoes having been taken from us; nor were
we any ways equal to those deer hunters in travelling
this wilderness. Poor eld Mr. Loyd was most to be
pitied, for he began to lag early in the day, and frequent
ly received heavy blows with the breeches of their guns.
In the course of the day we each received a hard biscuit
and a small slice of raw pork. This however could not
be considered very hard fare, but our journey was ex
ceedingly fatiguing. It was night when we got over to
the shore of Placentia bay, and were yet four or five
miles from a little station, where there was a small bat
tery and a few regular soldiers. The little port when
we arrived, was occupied by a rich old Jerseyman who
had a considerable number of shallops and fisherrnen
employed in his service, and some of them had been
treated rudely by American privateers; the old man was
exceedingly exasperated when he ascertained that we
were American prisoners, and insisted that we ought to
be immediately put to death. He protested that he
would not supply us with any thing to eat, or any shel
ter for the night. But our guard received their instruc
tions from the good old lady at Grandbank, and they
threatened to present him to his Majesty's officers. The
old man abruptly quitted them, and went to his house.
The guard took possession of his brew house in which.

52 MEMOIRS OF

«

he had brewed that day, the floor was wet and very mud
dy. I went out and broke off my arms full of fir and
spruce boughs for my bed, (I should have preferred the
bare floor if it had been dry,) and lay me down to rest,
for I was exceedingly tired and sore. Some of the
guard were busy in getting something to eat, nnd I fell
asleep. They procured a plenty of corned codfish, and
boiled it ; one of them came to me, gave me a shake and
bade me arise and eat my supper. Although I had had
so scanty a dinner, I was so extremely tired that I de
clined getting up, but he gave me a pretty heavy thump,
saying, with an oath, " get up you Yankee, and take
your supper." I thought it best without further cere
mony, to comply with his commands ; I arose and went
to the table ; it was sufficiently long for our whole com
pany to stand round it. Our supper was served up in
the same style as at Grandbank, that is, on several pieces
of board fitted for the purpose. We had several saucers
of sweet oil; there were neither plates, knives or forks,
on the tables; each took some fish in his fingers and dip
ped it in the oil and ate it.

With my eyes half open, and not a little disgusted at
being disturbed from my sweet repose, I took hold of
some fish with my thumb and fingers, dipped it into the oil
as the others did, and put it into my mouth, but had great
difficulty in swallowing it, it was so offensive to my taste ;
I ate a few mouthfuls of the fish without oil, and a small
piece of ship bread, and very gladly returned to my bed
of boughs again, and slept soundly all night. In the
morning, we had to walk four or five miles to the little
battery, (I think the place was called " Morteer;") but
our walk was much more distressing than it had been the
day before; we were very stiff when we began our
march; our feet were exceedingly sore and our way ex
tremely rough. We had to pass over a promontory,
the ascent was difficult and tiresome, and the descent
even dangerous: in some places very steep, and in oth
ers almost perpendicular. We had to catch and hold
fast on the bushes, to prevent falling headlong upon the
rocks below. Having arrived at Morteer, they fired one
of their pieces of artillery for joy, that some Yankee

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 53

prisoners ha'd fallen into their hands, for they also had
been visited by American privateers. I did not under
stand that the inhabitants had been molested, but their
stores and shallops had been plundered. I believe we
were the only prisoners who had been captured upon
their coast. From this place, we were taken to another
harbor, called Buren, (if I have not through forgetful-
ness interchanged the names of these places,) where
there was a large shallop going directly to Placentia. —
We were put, on board and shortly set sail. Our guard
of seven men returned to Fortune bay. The crew of
the shallop consisted of three only, but had six of those
long muskets loaded, and laying by them. The men
appeared more humane than our former guard; and they
having ascertained that we had had no breakfast, hove
to, and in a very few minutes hauled in several tine
codfish, which they boiled with some pork.

This with some ship bread, furnished us with a good
breakfast and was much more palatable to me than was
my supper the night before. We were all kept forward,
and not permitted to come near the quarter deck, where
lay the loaded guns. The distance to Placentia, I think
was something like twenty or twenty-five leagues; the
wind was fair, and we had just about as much as could
be wished for, and the weather very pleasant. We
arrived at Placentia sometime before night: one of the
men went on shore in their skiff, and gave information
of us, and shortly the government boat came off, and
took us on shore, to the commissary's house. We were
conducted into a room by ourselves, and in a few min
utes the commissary came in with several other gen
tlemen, who examined us particularly. They ap
peared to be gentlemen of refined sensibility ; they
deeply regretted the unhappy discord which existed
between the mother country and the colonies; their feel
ings were much hurt at seeing the condition of our feet,
and gave us some stockings and shoes, The commissa
ry informed us that we must take up our residence in gar
rison. He withdrew and sent us in some flour loaves, and
butter. Soon after we had eaten our bread and butter,
we heard the sound of the bagpipes at the door, and a

54 MEMOIRS Of

0

messenger was sent to call us out. On going to the
door we were taken into custody by a sergeant's guard
of Highlanders, in their kilts, plaids, Scotch bonnets, and
checkered stockings, accoutred with guns and fixed
bayonets, broad swords, &c. 1 had seen the like before
in Charleston, S. C. but to the most of our company this
was quite a novel appearance. Babb, Annis, and Willis,
gazed with astonishment at the singular appearance of
those soldiers. Sandy changed his tune, and we had
orders to march, and were conducted into the fort, and
confined to the guard room, and a sentinel was placed at
the door. The town of Placentia is beautifully situated
on a low flat beach of stones, a large proportion of which
are suitable for paving streets, and of every various size.
The harbor is formed by the confluence of two small
rivers, (one called the northeast, and the other the south
west arms ;) from the junction of those rivers to the open,
bay, is not more than two hundred yards ; the town is
bounded on the south by the southwest arm ; on the
south side of this arm or river, is a very steep and high
mountain, covered with evergreens; a similar mountain
comes almost down to the town on the west ; it is bound
ed by the bay or ocean on the north ; another mountain
lies on the eastern side of the town and harbor, on a
bench of which is a strong castle. The fort and garri
son are situated in the northeast angle of the town and
are well built. The bench extends a considerable dis
tance northwesterly along the margin of the bay, and in
some places it may be a quarter of a mile wide or more.
Those benches are to be found wherever you find a fish
ing station in Newfoundland, and were in Divine Prov
idence designed to make the fish upon. As Placentia
was by far the largest fishing station that 1 saw in New
foundland, I will in this place give some description of
their manner of taking and making codfish upon the
coast : but as it is more than forty years since, it will be
but an imperfect account. The present impression of
my mind is, that some of the fishing ground is vastly
preferable to others ; the men take the fish and general
ly have them as fast as they can haul them. For bait
•thej have a small fish which they take in nets, called

ANDREW SREHBCR*..

caplin ; they are about six inches long, s
excellent ; their manner of curing them is to salt them
lightly, and with a sail needle and twine string them up
by the head, and dry or smoke them.

The men take the codfish to shore or to the stage,
which is a kind of wharf, over which there is generally
a shed. The women and girls take and very dexter
ously rip them open, and take out their inwards, (reserv
ing the liver,) slat oft* their heads and split them. They
salt them in large vats, and when sufficiently salted, they
are thown into a kind of crate where the tide can flow
in and wash them. I believe the men generally assist in
getting them on the bench where they are dried, and then
put up in stacks which are much larger at the top than at
the bottom. The girls who are trained to this business,
nre seldom tall, generally thick and look remarkably
healthy; they have very large feet, I presume in conse
quence of walking barefoot over the beach stones, for I
did not see any with shoes.

The Governor of Placentia was a Col. Hawkins, a
gentleman in deportment. He had but a part of his reg
iment in this place. His wife was the daughter of an
old Highlander, who was a private soldier. He and a
number of other soldiers had their wives and children
with them, in the garrison.

The Colonel I presume was not above thirty , and his
lady not much over twenty. She was cheerful and hu
mane. We had not been long in garrison before Wilds
and myself were invited by the Governor to assist rowing
his barge up the river, where he had salmon nets ; and
as we lads were more ^expert in rowing, than were the
soldiers, Wilds was taken for bowman, and myself for
strokesman. There were a number of islands in the
river, on which there were raspberries, gooseberries, and
a variety of wild berries which were very good. The
Governor and his lady were generally landed on some
of those islands to amuse themselves in picking berries,
while the rest of us attended to the salmon nets. This
lady would amuse herself in asking questions about yan-
kees, their manners, customs, &c. She much regretted
ihat we boys should be prisoners, and detained from our

56 MEMOIRS 0*

parents. (She had two children of her own.) On our
return from our first excursion up the river, which gen
erally took us most part of the day, we were sent into
the Governor's kitchen, and furnished with a good sup
per; this was the more acceptable as our allowance of
provisions was rather scant. Mrs. Hawkins was al
ways careful whenever we went up the river to give us
some supper. After we had been several times up the
river, we were all allowed to walk in the yard by day,
but could not go out of the yard without a guard. We
went out however on no occasion except to bring water
from an excellent spring on the beach, which was thirty
rods from the garrison. I do not know but what the
whole town as well as the garrison, obtained their water
from the same spring.

It was perhaps sometime in May, 1T81, that we came
to this place, and the season passed away until Septem
ber, without any prospect of release.

CHAPTER III.

Col Hawkins and Lady — Duchess of Cumberland comes
into port — Mr. Baggs impressed — Cast away on Cape
St. Manfs — Sufferings in the Wilderness — Dead
men picked up and buried— Arrive at Placentia — Im
prisoned again and put on board sloop of war Fairy—'
Doomed to serve his Majesty — Whipped — Mr. Fox —
Arrives in England — Put on board the Admiral1 S
ship Dunkirk — Court of Admiralty — Committed to
Mill Prison for rebellion, fyc. — Arrives at Mill
Prison.

ABOUT the middle of September, there came in a
twenty-two gun ship, called the Duchess of Cumber
land. She was built in Beverly, Massachusetts, and
called the Congress ; had been captured by a British
frigate that summer, and taken into his Majesty's

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 57

service. She came to Placentia, to convoy a number
of English merchantmen, which came there to take in
cargoes offish for Europe. While this ship lay in the
harbor, one of her men deserted ; diligent search was
made, but he could not be found. It was suspected
that some of the inhabitants had concealed him, and the
officers impressed one of the inhabitants by the name of
Baggs, in his stead. Gov. Hawkins put us prisoners on
board this ship, to be taken to St. John's, the capital of
Newfoundland, where there was a prison-ship, and a
considerable number of prisoners, and it was expected
that there would be a cartel sent from there to Boston
that fall. Thus there appeared some prospect of our
getting home again, but our hopes were shortly blasted.

The ship put to sea, and on the second or third day
we had something of a blow and rain; in the afternoon
a strange sail was discovered, unto which we immedi
ately gave chase, but as the wind increased, and the
ship was going out of her course, after about an hour
the chase was given up. We hove about, reefed our
topsails, got our starbourd tacks on board, and stood on
our course.

It became necessary to give Cape St. Mary's a birth;
the wind increased and it became necessary to close reef
the topsails. At about three or four o'clock, they thought
best to put the ship away a little, supposing they had
passed the Cape. Mr. Baggs had been skipper of a shal
lop for twenty years, he was therefore invited to take
his station on the forecastle, the station of the most, ac
complished seamen: the forecastlemen by turns steer
the ship, and when the helm was relieved at four o'clock,
Mr. Baggs asked the helmsman what course they were
running, and when he ascertained the course, said he,
" if we run that course two hours, the ship will be on
shore." At this the sailors were alarmed and advised
Baggs to give this information to the officers on the quar
ter deck. He went, aft and informed the officers that he
was well acquainted with the coast, and that in his
judgment, the ship and their lives were in danger.

But those British officers were as little inclined to
hearken to the advice of a Newfoundland fisherman, as

58 MEMOIRS OP

Gen. Bniddock was to be influenced by the more dis
creet Washington. " Fine times," said Braddock,
" when a young Buckskin c;>n teach a British General
hov.'to fight." If he had condescended to have been advi,
eel by the brave Washington, he might probably have sav
ed his life and been victorious; and if the officers had
hearkened to Baggs, they might have saved the ship
and many lives; but they treated him with abusive lan
guage and ordered him oft' the quarter deck, or they
would kick him off. Mr. Baggs went forward not a lit
tle chagrined; the sailors forward kept a good look out,
but the weather was so thick that they could see but a
very short distance.

I have now to record one of the most eventful periods
of my life. Pen cannot describe, nor can imagination
conceive, the terrific scene of a shipwreck, like the one
I shall attempt to describe. It must be experienced to
be comprehended.

On the 19th of September, 1781, at about 5 o'clock,
P. M. there were loud and repeated cries from the
forecastle, ' breakers on the lee bow T ' breakers ahead /'
This doleful sound caused every ear to tingle, and every
heart to thrill! Immediately from the quarter deck the
following sea phrase was heard, pronounced with em
phasis, " stand by to about ship, hard to lee, fore sheet,
fore top bowline, jib and staysail sheets let go!'; The
ship immediately rounded to, head to the wind ; but
before the foretopsail could possibly be filled on the oth
er tack, the violence of the wind and waves giving the
ship stern way, she was precipitated, (stern first,) against
a rugged bluff of rocks, which was, I should judge, fif
teen or twenty feet above water, almost perpendicular,
having some shelves and crags, however; two men who
were near the taffrel sprang from the taffrel rail on a
shelf of the rock.

The ship struck with such violence as to break off her
rudder and knock the man overboard, who was at the
helm; a fourth attempted to reach the rock but failed
and went overboard. The two who fell overboard were
immediately dashed against the rock and disappeared.

The ship was no longer to be governed, we were all
at the mercy of the waves. All was confusion, conster-

ANDREW SHEREURNE. 59

nation and despair. The ship stuck fast upon a craggy
rock which lay under water, about twice her length
from the shore, and probably broke in some of
her floor timbers. All this took place before half the
people who were below, got upon deck, which was near
ly one half of the crew. I was going up the fore hatch
way when she struck on this rock, and looking down
in the hold, I saw "the water gushing up with violence,
(through the gravel in which the lower tier of water casks
were stowed,) in a stream eight or ten inches in diam
eter. I with difficulty gained the quarter deck. A
most terrifying scene was now presented to my view.
The ship rolled so that her yard arms nearly touched the
water: the sea was breaking feather white all around us.
Under the fog bank which hung over the shore, we
could discover the mountain, but could not see the top
of it; the wind was heavy and increasing; the rain de
scended in torrents; the sea roaring like thunder; night
coming on apace, some of the officers raving and swear
ing, some crying, and others praying, some inactive and
desponding, others active and courageous. The long
boat was got out, but by the time she struck the water,
there came a heavy sea and crushed her against the
ship's side, as quick as you could crush an egg shell in
your hand.

The ship was now laboring extremely, and fast fill
ing with water, nor did there appear the leaft prospect
or possibility of another person's being saved, and those
upon the rock appeared not to have any prospect of re
lease, but to be doomed to see all the remainder of their
shipmates perish. With regard to myself, 1 might say
with Watts,

" The tumult of my thoughts,
Held me in hard susponse."

Orders were given to cut away the masts ; after two
or three blows the mainmast went by the board, the for'
mast and mizen-mast also followed without a stroke. —
On the fall of our masts, the ship cleared from the rock,
on which she had been some time hanging, and drifted
towards the shore, thumping against the rocks which lay
under water, with tremendous force, and thereby throw-

60 MEMOIRS OF

ing us about and against each other at a most dreadful
rate. In this place the wind did not blow directly on
shore, but we were drifting into a sort of cove where the
shore was dead to the leeward of us, and almost perpen
dicular for twenty or thirty feet. In our course we were
brought up by some rocks, which were so near the sur
face of the water, that the ship could not get over them;
she lay nearly parrallel with the shore against where she
lay, and careening considerably towards the shore ; ev-
ry sea that came gave her a tremendous shock. Her
decks began to open in some places, sufficiently wide
for a man to go through into the hold ; every sea that
came would lift her stern considerably. Our ship was
in some respects circumstanced like that in which Paul
the apostle was wrecked, on the Isle of Malta, for u the
fore part stuck fast and remained immovable, but the
hinder part was broken with the violence of the waves."
There were five prisoners of us on board, but I heard of
no council to put us to death, for there was not the
probability or even possibility of our escape by swim
ming ; and it was equally impossible for any one to save
himself on " boards, or broken pieces of the ship."

It became necessary, however, to contrive some meth
od of escape; swearing was yet continued, and praying
also continued; for my own part, I believe I did not vo
cally employ myself in either. By the time the ship,
stuck fast , the two sailors who jumped on the rocks, had:
with great difficulty got nearly abreast of us.

A small spar was procured and a large rope> say an
inch and a half in diameter; the rope was made fast to
the spar and hove over the stern ; the waves carried the
spar on shore, but not within the reach of the men on
shore; of course it was drawn on board again. I think
this was repeated three or four times before the men or*
shore succeeded in getting it; they maeb it fast round a
rock as large as a small hay stack, the sailors on board
drew it as straight as they could, and made it fast round
the stump of the foremast.

Abreast of the ship there was .a small gravelly beach,
not much more than the length of the ship, with some
large rocks upon it, but the wind did not blow directly

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 61

towards this beach, by as much perhaps as three or four
points of the compass*

It was judged that the ship lay about eight rods from
the shore at right angles, but the distance was something
more right ahead from the ship; for as soon as this little
beach terminated, the shore began to haul out again, and
had the ship been driven over the reef which she struck
upon, she must have gone ashore in going three times
her length, where she must have gone to pieces in less
than twenty minutes, and where a soul could not have
been saved. The rope which I mentioned being pre
pared, there seemed some small degree of hope, though
when the waves ran, they would bury it ten feet or more
under water, for it was drawn so straight that it could
not rise with the sea.

A man attempted to go on shore by this rope, and ap
peared to succeed very well until he got a rod and a half,
or two rods from the ship, and when he got so far that
the ship did not break any of the violence of the waves,
he was soon washed off, and was immediately dashed
against the rocks, and the next sea buried him and he
was seen no more. The next who attempted went the
same way. It is probable that they exerted themselves
too much at first, and were considerably exhausted when
they came to that place, where the most strength was
needed. (This thought however did not occur to me
at that time.) The ship could not have been placed in a
more favorable position to facilitate our escape; she was
completely bound by large craggy rocks, some of which
had penetrated several feet into her bottom; her stern
lay rather the highest, and her larboard quarter broke
the waves. The crew were huddled forward, upon and
under the forecastle. The fate of the two men who had
been washed off from the rope, seemed for some time to
discourage any farther attempt. At length, however, a
third adventured, and succeeded in getting on shore, and
was joyfully received by the two first who got on shore;
a fourth made an attempt and was lost. I think that the
fifth, sixth, and seventh succeeded in getting on shore.

Our situation appeared more and more gloomy as
night was fast approaching. There were several lads
who were midshipmen; they seemed inclined to make
6

62 MEMOIRS OF

an attempt again and again, but recoiled: their bitter
cries and lamentations were enough to pierce the hard
est hearts. I began to think of trying myself, but there
was but a faint hope of success, 1 believe there had
ten reached the shore by the rope, and four had been
washed off. I buttoned up my outside jacket, drew my
shirt out of my trowsers; I had on my head an old fash
ioned Dutch cap, which went on very tight. As I could
swim tolerably well, I flattered myself that it would be-
in my favor; I took hold of the rope and fell into the wa
ter, but soon perceived that I could derive no benefit
from the use of my legs, the water being1 in such an agi
tated state. The iirst swell and wave which run was in
some measure obstructed by the ship, it however buried
me for a short time. When the second sea came, I wa3
exposed to its whole violence; while it was running it
seemed as if I should have been pressed to death, and
tiie time seemed exceedingly long. I was hanging by
my hands and stretched as straight horizontally, as if I
had been suspended in the air; but before the current
abated, my right hand gave way, and was carried back
iu a moment. O the multiplicity of thoughts that rush
ed into my distracted mind! One among the many was
that the left hand would continue its hold until I should
drown; another was that I must directly appear before
my Judge. I felt my left hand and arm faultering, and
I expected to be immediately in eternity; I wished to
express a thousand desires in one, and I felt disposed to
cast myself on the mercy of God. O the awful solemni
ties of eternity! But I am laboring in vain, for I can
not possibly express what my feelings were. God spar
ed me. The undertow swept me under the rope; I
hore my right arm over the rope and instantly griped
fast hold the collar of my jacket and other clothes, and
after taking breath, mnde all possible exertion to draw
myself towards the shore, before another sea should
come. The third wave stretched me, but having my
arm over the rope, I was better fortified, nor was it by
any means so violent as the second, and when it went
back it left me suspended by the rope, and I could al
most touch the hideous ragged rocks with my feet, but
durst not let go my hold, because the men on shore

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 63

could not yet afford me any assistance. The fourth
wave floated me a little nearer to the shore, but itg
strength was almost spent before it reached me. As
soon as it withdrew, two sailors followed it, each holding
on the rope with one hand, they each took hold on me
with one hand, drew me upon the beach; they laid me
down on my back, and left me. I was perfectly help
less; I had not strength for a time to move hand or loot.
After a while 1 found by struggling to get upon my side,
I with difficulty succeeded, and got so as to set up? but
could not yet get upon my feet. It was now near sun
down. I cast my eyes upon the wreck. I thought 1
felt truly thankful to God for such a preservation and
deliverance. I promised henceforward to serve him;
but alas, the depravity of the human heart! By the
time I was able to walk, they had found out a better
method to get the men on shore. The man who first
went ashore by the rope was uncommonly strong; he had
the courage to go on board again. He was an officer,
but I do not now recollect either his name or his rank; he
and other officers contrived to haul the men ashore with
small ropes; he fixed a traveller on the rope, by which
he first went on shore, so that he could not wash off, and
took with him a small rope which was sufficiently long
to reach the shore ; the end on the wreck was made fast
round a man's body, and another equally as long fixed
to it; the man then fell into the water, and the men on
shore would run with their end, and those on board
would pay out, taking care to keep the rope taut, to pre
vent the man from dashing against the rocks. Having
got one of these ropes on shore, it was easy to fix others.
By the time I was able to walk down to the edge of
the water, they were hauling five or six men at once on
different ropes. They would not be longer drawing a
man on shore than while a person might walk eight rods
with a quick step. There were more than a hundred
men drawn on shore in this way. Some of them were
considerably bruised, however. But the darkness came
on before all could be got ashore in this way, and there
were probably thirty yet on the wreck, which could not
now be seen. Mr Loyd and Annis were among the
number.

64 MEMOIRS OF

Our next object was to render our situation as com
fortable as circumstances would permit. We soon as
certained that we could not ascend the mountain. The
rain and wind continued, and we were entirely without
shelter. With some difficulty we ascended the moun
tain about ten or fifteen yards and came to a kind of
hollow, but there was not sufficient room for us all to
lie down, without laying one upon another, and this we
found to be most in our favor, for although it was quite
uncomfortable for one man to have one or two others
laying on him, it was better than to be all the while mo
tionless and exposed to the storm. Sometimes there
were two laying upon me; sometimes one under me,
and another on me, and sometimes I had two under me.
We were, however, obliged frequently to interchange
our stations, for when underneath we were too hardly
pressed, to long endure the weight upon us; and when
outside the rain and cold was very severe. We were
frequently annoyed by the feet of those who lay above
us, and those below us had the same inconvenience to
endure from us. Sometimes those that lay the lowest
down where the ground was more steep, would slip
down several in a cluster, and slide even to the beach,
among the rocks, and on those occasions they did not
forget to swear.

On the whole we had a very uncomfortable night,
nnd probably as anxiously u wished for the day,'5 as did
Paul and his shipmates, nor can we reasonably suppose
that those on the wreck were less anxious.

About two o'clock in the morning, the rain abated,
and the wind shifted, and very soon after the ocean be<
came less noisy. As day light appeared it was our first
care to ascertain whether the ship had gone to pieces, or
whether she remained in her old station. We. were not
a little rejoiced to find that she still remained. Many
of us were so chilled that we could not stand upon our
feet. The sun arose clear and warm, and by exercising
ourselves on the little beach, we soon found our activity
restored. We could converse with those who remained
on the wreck, and had a prospect of easily getting
on board, when the tide, which was now fast falling,
should be down. The masts and spars which before lay

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 65

ahead of the ship, had worked round and lay between
the ship and the shore. It now became an object to as
certain where we were, and how to get away. Should
any one hereafter feel interested in reading this narra
tive, it would without doubt be desirable to have a de
scription of this place; I shall therefore attempt to give
as -clear a description as I can.

We were on the eastern side of Cape St. Mary's, per
haps ten miles from the pitch, or head of the cape. Our
station was against the side of a mountain whose per
pendicular height was perhaps five or six hundred feet,
and generally so steep and abounding with breaks and
precipices, that it was very difficult for a man to ascend
it in any place, and in some places it was utterly im
practicable. The shore in general very bold; and it
is what sailors generally call an iron bound shore. In
some places the rocks were almost perpendicular, ten,
twenty, and sometimes forty feet high. The reef on
which our ship stuck fast, appears to me to have slid out
of the mountain, some hundred years ago. It might
have been at the time when the adorable Jesus hung upon
the cross.

At half tide and in fair weather, the tops of the rocks
on this reef were bare, and it extended ten or twelve rods
into the sea where it came to a point, and in the base
of this reef by the shore was five or six rods wide, and
formed a pleasant beach. The shore in this place was
a little indented. If our ship had been two rods further
from the shore she must have passed without this reef,
arid in that case, have fallen directly on a lee shore,
where she must have gone to pieces in a very little
time, in a place where it wauld have been impossible for
one soul to have landed. Nothing excited more aston
ishment than to comprehend how it was, that the two
men who first jumped on the rocks, got from that place
to the beach.

At about 8 or 9 o'clock, some men got on the wreck,
and soon after I went on myself, but did not perceive
much difference in appearance, since the time I left her
but when the tide went fully down, I went into the hold,
which was entirely empty. Every cask, all her ballast^
and every other article wa* washed out. and in
6*

66 MEMOIRS OF

places were very large chasms. The arm chest on the
weather side of the quarter deck, remained unhurt.
There was found in one of the state rooms, about two
hundred pounds of bread, unhurt; and in the harness
cask, under the forecastle, there was about two hundred
pounds of meat, principally pork.

After we had eaten some bread and raw meat, a com
pany of five or six men was selected, and furnished with
an iron bar or two, which were found in the beckets,
and some small rigging, and directed to endeavor to
find their way up the mountain. In a zig zag direction
they reached the summit, and then came down as far as
they could with safety, stuck the crowbar into the ground
and made fast a rope to it, and then descended by the
rope; making one rope fast to another until they got
down. In the arm chest before mentioned, there were
a number of muskets, some ammunition, tomahawks,
cutlasses, &c. In the sailors' hammocks, which hung
under the gun deck, were found a number of blankets,
so that every man could be furnished with one; and all
the provisions having been got on shore, every man took
some, and all hands prepared to ascend the mountain.
There was neither tree nor shrub to be seen.

Mr. Bag£S, whose counsel had been despised an hour
before the ship struck, was now held in high estimation,
and looked up to even by the Captain. That gentle
man's name was Samuel Marsh, a man of respectability;
he was not on deck when Baggs was treated ill, and it
was said that the officers on deck, altered the ship's
course without his knowledge.

It was said that the ship's crew consisted of about 170,
besides five prisoners. I do not recollect exactly the
number which were lost; it was 1 think short of twenty.
Some I believe were so presumptuous as to attempt to
swim to shore and were lost. There was one woman on
board, she was the cook's wife, and was saved without
injury; a traveller being fixed on the great rope, she was
drawn on shore in haste.

Some of the ship's sails were got on shore, and a tent
erected for her accommodation. Her husband, one of
the surgeon's mates, and several others were left in this
place. This woman was delivered of a child in a day or

ANDREW SHERBURNE C7

two after, and in a few days they were all taken off by
some fishing shallops.

It was perhaps one or two o'clock when we began to
ascend the mountain. In going up this mountain, I had
ascended a precipice fifteen or twenty feet, and had got
on eight or ten yards, where the ground was so steep
that 1 could not walk without holding on by the rope. —
Some one having jerked the rope out of my hands, I fell
on my face, arid was sliding fast down, and had got with
in twice my length of the edge of the precipice; a sailor
who had just got up, clapped his foot upon me; and held
me until I got hold of the rope again. Had I fallen off
these rocks, it would probably have killed me.

\Vhen I reached the summit of the mountain, I found
myself on the border of a spacious plain. Looking north
erly and westerly, a man might be seen a mile off. Not
a tree or shrub could be seen. In a southern direction
within a mile and a half, was a wilderness of evergreens.
The surface of the ground was covered with a long thick
moss, in which our feet would sink six inches at every
step.

In looking down on the ship, she did not appear big
ger than a long boat. We took up our march for the
wood, our company something like a hundred and fifty.
It was about sunset when we got to the woods. We
tried to make some fire but had poor luck; there was no
dry fuel to be had; the recent heavy rain had wet every
thing, and it was very difficult to make a fire of green
spruce and fir. We gathered boughs for our beds, for
although the moss was soft, it was very wet and cold.
We stowed pretty close together, and covered ourselves
with our blankets, yet we were very uncomfortable, for
our clothes had scarcely got dry, and it was a frosty
night.

In the morning, the Captain and other officers had
a long consultation with Mr. Baggs, respecting the route
we should pursue. We were something like a hundred
miles from Placentia, but I do not know what was the
distance to St. Johns. It was concluded to shape our
course for Placen'ia. On the next morning, orders were
giren to have all the provisions collected together and

68 MEMOIRS OF

each one, both officers and men, were to receive an
equal allowance.

It was thought necessary to remain where we were
that day, in order that Mr. Baggs might examine the
coast, for the purpose of settling some question in his
own mind. Mr. Baggs and several others set off and on
their return in the evening, brought the unpleasant in
telligence that the vessel which we had chased had gone
entirely to pieces, and it was presumed that every soul
was lost. On the morning following, we took up our
march and kept along in the woods, until past noon; we
then came upon the sea shore on the head of a bay
called by Mr. Baggs, Distress bay. He told us that for
the space of two or three leagues off, the water was not
more than two fathoms deep, and that this bay abounded
with rocks under water.

It was supposed that this vessel must have gone en
tirely to pieces, several miles from the shore. We sup
posed her to have been a brig, and we knew her to have
been an American built, for on the forehead of some of
her carved images, the letters U. S. A. were carved.
She might have been captured by the English, and in
their service. There was no doubt but that she had
been to the West Indies, for we found several hogsheads
of rum upon the shore, and some of them not much in
jured. The officers with tomahawks cut holes in those
casks, and poured all the rum out, lest the sailors should
be tempted to linger behind for the sake of the rum.
jVo man was allowed to drink a drop, nor did the officers
take any. The remains of this vessel were scattered
a mile or more on the shore. We picked up fourteen
men and a boy about twelve or fourteen years old. We
dragged them up on the bank, (for the shore here was
low,) and with staves dug a grave two or three feet
deep, and buried them as decently as in our circum
stances we could.

The only provision we found was a lump of butter;
it had been in a keg, but that was stove to pieces and the
tand was beat into the butter several inches. Thi*
part which was so damaged was scraped off, and the good
w« took along with us. We spent several hours about

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 69

this wreck. The largest piece that we found was three
or four planks of her quarter deck, with two or three of
the timbers. We kept along the shore several miles;
found the travelling very bad. At length we were oblig
ed to take to the woods again in consequence of the bold
ness of the shore.

I have been accustomed to the wilderness in New
England, New-York, Pennsylvania and Ohio, but have
never seen any so difficult to get through as that of New
foundland. Three times a day Capt. Marsh would set
down with the bread bag between his legs, and deal out
to each man a small quantity of bread, and some other1
officer would distribute a small quantity of meat; the
butter was also divided, which we found on the sea shore,
I should say that the whole amount of provisions a day,
to each man, did not exceed eight ounces. I think it
was on the eighth or ninth day, when we arrived at a
little port. Point Var. Some few of our company were
so exhausted, that they were left by the way, and wheth
er they were ever relieved, I am unable to say.

We were driven into store houses, and furnished with
a kind of tea, which they called Labrador tea; this was
well sweetened with molasses. This tea with ship bread
composed our supper, but before the officers with the
men of the place had got us housed, we h?d made free
with some of the fish from the beach; this however was
taken away as we entered the store house. I had the
good luck or the presumption to conceal a small one
under my jacket, and I found that others had done the
same. I reserved as much for myself as 1 dared to eat,
and distributed the remainder to others. They gave us
a plenty of tea. I took Wilds for my messmate, got un
der a large bench, arid we ate our supper with great cau
tion and comfort, being very careful to masticate our fish
thoroughly, and to eat and drink very slowly. We were,
probably an hour in eating our suppers, and we then had
a dry floor to repose on, and had a comfortable night's
rest.

The next day we had to walk four or five miles to
Placentia, and we who were prisoners were deposited
in our old station, the guard house. A Mr. SanderSj

70 MEMOIRS OF

the principal merchant in Placentia, gave me and others
some clothes. Gov. Hawkins and lady were very friendly,
and the soldiers with whom we had contracted a friendly
acquaintance, congratulated us on our return, after hav
ing gone through such a scene of suffering in two short
weeks. We continued here about a month. Mr. Baggs
got his discharge, and the crew were sent in shallops to
St. Johns.

How incomprehensible and astonishing are the ways
of divine Providence ! If Mr. Baggs had not been in
our company, we should probably most or all of us have
perished in the wilderness.

At the expiration of about one month, the Fairy,
sloop of war, of eighteen guns, came into the harbor to
convoy a few merchantmen to tSt. Johns, which were
not ready to sail when the Duchess of Cumberland sail
ed. The merchantmen were bound to Lisbon, and were
short of hands. Mr. Loyd, Babb, and Annis, were put
on board them, and promised th?it they should be report
ed to the consul, and set at liberty in Lisbon, which was
a neutral port. Whether they ever found their way to
their native shores, I cannot say. Wilds and myself
were destined to serve his Majesty, on board the Fairy,
sloop of war, commanded by Capt. Yeo, a complete ty
rant. I began to fear that my fate was sealed to serve
his Britannic Majesty, on board a man of war, all my
days; a service which I had detested from my infancy. —
Before I was six years old, I had heard my parents
speak of some of their friends who had been impressed
on board of men of war. I can perfectly remember
when Hollon took a chart of our coast and harbors. My
father at that time lived on Frost's point, near the mouth
of Portsmouth harbor, where we could see every vessel
that went out and in. Our sailors and fishermen used
to dread the sight of a man of war's boat, as a Hock of
sheep would dread the appearance of a wolf* I presume
that Gov. Hawkins was ignorant of Capt. Yeo's design.
Hawkins put us on board of the Fairy, to be conveyed
to St. Johns. Wilds and myself were called upon the
quarter deck, and after having been asked a few questions
by Capt. Yeo, he turned to his officers and said, "they are
Q. couple of fine lads for his Majesty's service. Mr. Gray,

ANDREW SHERBURXE. 71

see that they do their duty, one in the foretop and the
other in the maintop." Wilds replied that he was afraid
to go up so high; thnt he was suhject to fits; he was afraid
he should fall down and kill himself. I replied, that I
was a prisoner of war, and that I could not consent to
serve against my country. With very hard words and
several threats, we were ordered off the quarter deck,
and commanded to do our duty in the waist.

Mr. Gray was the first lieutenant, and the tops were
much more honorable station? than the waist; but we wero
determined not to serve his Majesty in either station; we
therefore left the quarter deck in haste, and went imme
diately into the cable tier, which is the prisoners' station ".
but we did not know, as yet, what fellows we had to deal
with. In a day or two, all hands were called; this is per
formed with a certain ceremony. The boatswain's mate
stands at the fore hatchway, and with a call, or pipe, blowa
a loud and along blast, and then halloos out " all hands,
ahoy." He performs the same ceremony at the main
hatchway, and at the after hatchway. It is only to blow
his whistle and say "hands ahoy." For myself, I did not
see any occasion for all hands being called at that time.
I have always thought that it was for no other purpose
than to ferret out these two poor little yankee lads. After
suitable time is given for the men to get on deck, the boat-
wain's mate goes down, and goes fore and aft between
decks, to see if there are any skulkers. On this occa
sion, having performed on deck the proper ceremony, he
came down below, blustering and swearing, (as is com
mon on those occasions,) and finding none indifferent to
the summons, except Wilds and myself, who were snug
in the cable tier, he began to rave at us like a bedlamite,
and hastening towards us, commanded us on deck. We
informed him that we were prisoners of war; that we were
American prisoners. "Tell me nothing about prisoners,"
*aid he; "upon deck immediately." We still kept our
stations, and remonstrated: he uttered a number of most
horrid imprecations, and at the same time cornmcnce'd a
furious attack upon us with his rattan. We for a while
sternly adhered to our purpose, while he alternately thresh
ed the one and the other; (we should have resisted, but
were afraid of the consequences.) He became more and

72 MEMOIRS OP

more enraged, and determined to conquer; and we not
daring to resist, thought it best to clear out. We mount
ed the deck, but with no small degree of reluctance, with
him at our heels repeating his strokes. Having got on
deck, I saw but very little to do. The carpenter and
boatswain have each a birth, viz. a kind of small room by
themselves, forward of the fore hatchway. The carpen
ter, whose name was Fox, was sitting in his birth and
looking on while the boatswain's mate was whipping us.
The thought of serving his Majesty on board a man of
war was so painful to my feelings, that I directly left the
deck and again went below and sat down, and with a very
heavy heart was reflecting on my forlorn condition. I
could not endure the thougt of being deprived of liberty,
and spending my days on board an enemy's ship of war.
Mr. Fox was still sitting in his cabin, and I believe there
was no other person below at that time. The carpenter
called to me, and beckoned to me to come to his birth;
I went in and he kindly asked me to sit down, which I
did, and he addressed me as follows: "I see my lad, that
you are obliged to do duty."

Yes, Sir, said I, but very much against my inclination.
Said he, " it is wrong, but it would not do for me to
interfere; but I was thinking to do you a favor. His
Majesty allows me two boys, but I have not any; if you
will come into my birth and take a little care here, I will
excuse you from keeping watch and all other duty." I
hesitated, fearing to perform any voluntary service, lest
it should prove unfavorable to me. Mr. Fox noticing
that I was in suspense about the matter, said ''you need
not fear its being unfavorable to you; you will be much
less exposed if you stay with me, than you will be if you
have to do your duty before the mast, and it is in vain
for you to think to escape that, for Capt. Yeo is a very
arbitrary man; he is not liked by the crew, and his offi
cers do not set much by him. I intend to leave the
ship myself when we get home, but I wish you not to
mention these things, and you may be assured that I
will be your friend." He seemed so affectionate and
friendly that I put confidence in the man, nor was it
misplaced; he proved a faithful friend. The boatswain
and gunner, both messed with Mr. Fox; the boatswain had

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 73

& boy, whose name was William Ming, and the gunner
had a boy, whose name was Henry Hack, besides a
son, seven or eight years old; so that our service was
very light, for one smart boy would have been amply-
sufficient to have done all the work that there was to do
in the mess. Within a day or two after this, the ship
arrived at St. John's, where I soon ascertained that the
cartel had sailed several weeks before, and that there
were no prisoners on board the prison ship. This was ap
palling to my feelings: although I had little ground to
expect that the sailing of the cartel would have been de
layed until that time. We found, therefore, that we
were destined to see old England, if we should live, and
the ship should succeed in getting home. While lying
in St. John's, we had an opportunity of seeing some
of Capt. Yeo's character exhibited. It was contrary to
orders to bring any spirituous liquors on board; it was
the usage to hoist in the boat at night, lest any of the
men should elude the guard, steal the boat and run away.
One evening as the boat was hoisted in, there was a
bottle of rum discovered in the boat. No one of the
boat's crew would own the bottle; and the next morning
the whole, six in number, were seized up to the gangway,
with their shirts stripped off, and each received a dozen
lashes, with a cat-o'-nine-tails, on his naked back. — It
was very common for this captain to have his men thus
whipped for very trifling faults, and sometimes, when fault
less. At a certain time the cook gives out word to the
men, and officers' waiters, that they may have hot water
to wash their dishes, &c. One day a midshipman's boy
called on the cook for hot water. The cook had none;
and reprimanded the lad for not coming in proper season.
The boy complained to his master; whose rank on board
is no higher than the cook's and who was himself but a
boy: the midshipman came forward and began to repri
mand the cook; who told him that had the boy come at
the proper time, he would have had hot water enough;
but that he should not now furnish him, or any one efse.
Thi* young blood made his complaint to the captain that
he was insulted by the cook, who was a man in years,
and who, for this affront, offered to a gentleman's son,
7

MEMOIRS OF

be brought to the gangway, and take his dozen. I
believe that the laws of the navy do not admit of a war
rant officer's being punished, without he ia first tried and
condemned by a court martial. I understand that the
captain had violated the laws of the navy, in a number of
instances. He had a number of men in irons, on the
whole passage to England. He had a son who was a
midshipman on board, and I think it very probable that
he was the same who commanded on Lake Ontario, in
the late war with England. We had a short, but rather
a lough passage to England; and were several times cal
led to quarters; but it so happened, in kind Providence,
that neither Wilds or myself were stationed at any quar
ters. Whether we were overlooked, or whether it was
design in the officers, I am unable to say; at any rate,
we thought it a very fortunate circumstance on our part.
There was no fighting however on the passage. We arriv
ed at Plymouth, I should say about the last of November,
1781. It excited some peculiar sensations to lift up my eyes
and behold the land of my forefathers. I must confess I felt
a certain kind of reverence and solemnity, that I cannot
well describe. Yet when reflecting on my situation, and
bringing into view the haughtiness of her monarch and
government; their injustice and cruelty to her children;
I felt an indignant, if not a revengeful spirit towards them.
Several days passed away, and I saw no prospect of mv
release from the ship. The ship had not been a week
in port, before there came three fourths as many women,
as men, on board; and the number every day increasing.
This was the universal practice with the British navy:
it was not common for the men to be allowed to go on
shore, to stay over night. My worthy master proposed to
ltie, that in case I could not get released from the ship, to
adopt me as his son. He had a wife, I think, in Bristol,
but had no child: he said he did not intend long to fol
low the sea; he could, if he pleased, quit the sfr'ip and
work in hie? Majesty's yard. I could not but express my
grateful sense of his kindness; but informed him that it
was my design to use every endeavor to get to America
again. He said ho did not blame me; and that if he could
see any opportunity in my favor, he would apprise me of

ANDREW SHERBURNE. To

it. There was some prospect of Capt. Yeo's being re
moved from the command of the Ship: she was, however,
preparing for sea again. Th'e men, and especially the
officers, lived high while the ship was in port. In our
mess we had a plenty of fresh beef, mutton, fowls, and
vegetables; which were very acceptable to me, after hav
ing been seven or eight months destitute of every kind of
vegetables and fresh provisions except fish.

We had been several week« in port; the ship had ta
ken her beer on board, and was in a manner ready for sea
again. Capt. Yeo took his leave of the ship, without any
ceremony of respect being shown him Irom the crew.
Shortly after, the new Captain came on board, and was
saluted with three cheers from the crew. There was now
a mere possibility that my friend Wilds and myself, might
find favor in the sight of our new Captain. (1 very much
regret that I have forgotten his name. )

la a day or two after he had come on board, Mr. Fox
came into his cabin, where I was, and said to me: "Sher-
burne, the Captain is walking alone, on the quarter deck,
I think it is a good time for you to go and speak to him;
it may be, that he will consider you as a prisoner of war."
I trembled for fear we should be unsuccessful, and this
was our last chance, and if we should fail in this, our fate
would be sealed, unless Mr. Fox could get discharged
from the ship, and take me with him; and even in that
case, I must be a British subject. This idea was by no
means grateful to my feelings. There was no time, how
ever, to lose, I went and informed Wilds of my plan, and
requested him to accompany me, he readily consented;
(we had talked on the subject before;) and we walked aft,
went up the lee gangway and crossed over to the weath
er side of the quarter deck, with our hats under our arms,
and met the Captain as he was walking forward. He
appeared very willing to give us a hearing. "\\ hat is
your wish, nay lads?" said he; I replied, "we are Ameri
can prisoners, Sir, we were taken on the coast of New
foundland, and imprisoned all the last summer in Placen-
tia, and in September we were put on board his Majesty's
ship., the Duchess of Cumberland, to go to St. John's,
expecting to have been sent from thence, to Boston, and

76 MEMOIRS OF

have been exchanged; but the Duchess of Cumberland
was lost on Cape St. Mary's, soon after she sailed. We
were taken to Placentia again, and there put on board
this ship; it is our wish, Sir, to be considered prisoners
of war, and to go to prison." Said he, "you may go for
ward, my lads, and I will inquire into your cause." We
bowed and retired. Mr. Fox anxiously waited our return.

In about half an hour, word was given out from the
Captain, for Sherburne and Wilds to get ready to go into
the boat; and at the same time, the jolly boat boys were
called to man the boat. We felt almost ready to leap
for joy, that we were likely to have the honor and privi
lege of going to prison. I saw the tears stand in Mr.
Fox's eye, and I am certain that they ran down my
cheeks freely; he gave me some shirts and stockings, and
his best wishes. So we parted.

Wilds and Sherburne were ordered to goon board the
boat; in this business there must be a little ceremony.
A midshipman must accompany us, sword in hand, also
a sergeant, and several marines with fixed bayonets; thus
prepared, we left the Fairy in Plymouth sound, and
shaped our course for Hamoaze, near Plymouth dock,
where lay the Dunkirk seventy-four, the harbor Admi
ral's ship. All the prisoners who were brought into
port, are put on board this ship, which is properly a guard
ship. All the men who are impressed in and about this
port, are also put on board this ship. All his Majesty's
ships when they come into port, report to the Admiral,
and he reports to the board of admiralty; he also re
ceives and gives all orders to his Majesty's ships.

When a crew of prisoners is brought on board this ship,
a list of their names is deposited in the Admiral's clerk's
office, which is kept under the poop, on the quarter deck.

I cannot now say with whom the phrase originated ,
which denominated a British man of war, a a floating
hell." If such a name is applicable to the ships of the
British navy generally, I think it was as applicable to
the Dunkirk, as to any other.

I had been on board but a few minutes, before I fell
in with an old ship-mate; he was an English lad, a little
older than myself. His name was William Lamb. He

ANDREW SHERBURNE 77

was captured by the Ranger, on the first cruise I sailed
in her, William Lamb put himself an apprentice to
Klijah Hall, Esq. who was first Lieut, of the Ranger. ^
This gentleman had one or two other apprentices on
board that ship; he was as universally beloved and re
spected by the crew, as any officer with whom I was ever
acquainted. William fell into the hands of the British
a^ain, was recognized as a British subject, and put on
board a man of war; he abhorred the service and desert
ed; he was impressed, and put on board another; de
serted from her also, and was now impressed again.
This information he gave me in a whisper, requesting
rne, for God's sake, not to call him by name, he having
assumed one.

I was grieved for the poor young man, he was very
agreeable and much respected. I knew, that if he
should be detected in all this, he would in all probability
be hung at the yard arm.

There were no American prisoners on board the
Dunkirk, when we went on board, but in a few days a
dozen or fifteen were brought on board, and shortly af
ter, a few more; and there would scarcely a night pass,
in which there were not more or less brought on
board by the press gangs, as they are called. This ship
would sometimes have out five or six gangs at the same
time. These gangs consisted generally of a petty offi
cer, and six, eight, or ten, unprincipled sturdy fellows ;
they generally have the greatest success at the houses
of ill fame, where most of the sailors resort, when on
shore. They sometimes, however,] have a hard time,
and are overpowered, and get a severe drubbing, nor is
it uncommon for those who are impressed, to be brought
on board shockingly bruised and mangled.

When a ship comes into port, and is in want of hands,
she gets a supply from the Admiral's ship. The prison
ers who were first brought on board, were in a day or
two, called for and sent ashore, to pass an examination
before the Judges of the Admiralty, and be committed
to Old Mill prison. I felt surprised that those prisoners
who came on board subsequent to us, should precede us
in going to prison. The day after, aaother company

78 MEMOIRS OF

were called and sent ashore. We began to feel alarmed,,
for we had understood that prisoners were sent ashore in
rotation, as they came on board. We began seriously
to fear that there was some evil design against us. At
length we put on fortitude sufficient to go to the office
and inquire why we were not sent ashore in our turn.
The clerk inquired what vessel's crew we were of, and
what our names were; we informed him, but he knew
nothing about us. Our very souls began to sink; we
had seen enough of a British man of war to satisfy us,
that it would be worse than useless for us, in our situa
tion to talk about " sailors' rights."

We began to fear that we should be turned off to the
first of his Majesty's ships which might want hands,
for there was no distinction there between im
pressed men, and prisoners. It was only a tem
porary station for either. We made bold to go to the
office again, and oh ! how appalling to find that we were
not known as prisoners. One circumstance, however,
seemed to inspire us with a faint hope. The clerk was
a man, yes, he was a gentleman; he patiently heard all
we had to say, and promised to make diligent seach for
our names.

By this time, we had lost every article of clothing, ex
cept what we had upon our backs; every thing else had
been stolen. I suppose that it might with as much pro
priety be said of our ship's company, that we were the
offscouring of the earth, as of almost any other company
in existence. The ship being near the shore, and there
being sp much passing and repassing from the ship to the
shore, it was almost impossible to prevent their having
spirits on board. There was, therefore, drinking, gam
ing, swearing, fighting, stealing, scolding, brawling, &.c.
&c. going on almost continually, and especially in the
night. But I will desist from any further description of
this degraded and wretched company.

Wilds and myself were now the only prisoners on
board, and we made application the third time to the
clerk, who appeared to sympathize with us; he presum
ed that as there were but two of us, that the paper on
which our names were, was so small that it must have

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 79

been lost. There were eleven more prisoners brought
on board, and when the time came to send the prison
ers ashore, we were greatly rejoiced to h^ar our names
first called.

Whether our list had been mislaid and had now come
to light, or whether the clerk sent onboard the Fairy for
a new one, or whether he made us out a new one, I nev
er inquired.

There were thirteen prisoners ordered on board the
boat and were landed at what is called Plymouth Dock,
said to be the best dock in England. I had the oppor
tunity of seeing the Royal George laying in dock, at
that time the largest ship in the British navy. We were
escorted from the wharf to the court of Admiralty, by a
guard of soldiers, and conducted into a room by our
selves. And here we waited some time in awful suspense;
we had one more trying scene to endure. The judges
in their examinations were careful to select all English
men and Irishmen for his Majesty's service; and it was
sometimes the case then, as well as in after times, to
challenge Americans, and to insist that they were Brit
ish subjects, and send them on board one of his Majes
ty's ships of war.

We had now to pass an examination individually and
separately.

I being the first on the list, was first called in be
fore the judges. They were elderly gentlemen, and all
wore large white wigs; there were several other persons
present. My examination follows as nearly as I ean
recollect.

" Is your name Andrew Sherburne ?"

" It is, Sir."

" Where were you born?"

" In Portsmouth, in the state of New-Hampshire, in
North America."

"What is your age?"

" I was sixteen on the last day of September, Sir."

" What is your father's name?"

<< He is dead, his name was Andrew Sherburne."

(( What was his occupation?"

** A carpenter."

80 MEMOIRS OF

" What vessel did you sail in?1'

"The privateer schooner Greyhound.'7

" How many guns did she mount?"

" Eight four pounders."

" Who commanded her?"

"Capt. Jacob Wilds."

" Where did she belong?"

" To Salem, in Massachusetts."

"When did she leave Salem?"

"Some time in the month of April last."

"What were you taken in?"

"I was taken in a Newfoundland shallop, a prize to
the Greyhound."

"By what were you taken?"

"A small armed schooner from Fortune bay, in New
foundland."

"Where were you taken to?"

"We were first taken to a place called Grand bank, in
Fortune bay, and from there we were sent to Placentia,
and imprisoned in the garrison until September. I was
then put on board his Majesty's ship, the Duchess of
Cumberland, bound to St. John's, and she having been
lost on Cape St. Mary's, I returned with part of the crew
to Placentia, where I was put on board his Majesty's ship
the Fairy, and brought to this port."

"How many are there of you?"

"Only two, Sir; there were three men of our erew put
on board of merchantmen, at Placentia."

I was then conducted back again to the rest of my
shipmates, and Wilds called in, and had nearly the same
questions asked him. I do not now recollect whether
the remaining eleven all belonged to one crew or not;
they were however examined separately, if my memory
serves me.

After all had been examined, I was called in before
the judges a second time, and most of the questions were
asked me again.

This circumstance very much alarmed me: one of the
judges asked a gentleman who was sitting in another part
of the room, whether my statements agreed with what I
had before said; who answered in the affirmative.

ANDREW SHERBURXE. 81

I recollected to have heard a pen going while I was
answering their questions, but little thought at that time
that they were writing down my answers. I felt fearful
that they were laying a snare for me. However, it proved
more favorable than I expected. The other twelve were
then called in and their honors were prepared to pro
nounce an awful sentence.

We were severally and individually committed to Old
Mill prison, for rebellion, piracy, and high treason on his
Britannic Majesty's high seas, there to lay during his
Majesty's pleasure, until he saw fit to pardon or other
wise dispose of us. , .

This i believe is about the substance of their honors'
address to us, as near as I could recollect. We were
then conducted to the door, that opened into the street,
and found a guard of soldiers waiting to receive us and
conduct us to the prison. I was then pressing the soil
of Old England, in a walk of about a mile and a half. —
I had not walked so much on the land before since my
tedious march through the dreary wilderness of New
foundland. I felt a high degree of animation that my
prospects were so flattering. It was indeed a peculiar
gratification to think of entering Old Mill prison. At
length we came to the outer gate, which groaning on its
hinges, opened to receive us into the outer yard.

The commissary's office and the cook room made two
sides of this yard, and it was separated from the large
prison yard, by a strong wooden grate. In this yard a
sentinel stood continually ; and "old Aunt Anna" was
here constantly, with her hand cart, (drawn by a boy,)
to supply the prisoners with bread, butter, tobacco,
needles, thread and every other article for which they
might call. Several milk men had their station here oc
casionally. Before the inner gate was opened, we heard
the outcry from within, "more prisoners! more prisoners!"
The inner gate was opened, being well guarded with sol
diers with fixed bayonets. Without further ceremony
we were urged forward into the great yard, and saw
the prisoners rushing towards the gate I'rom all direc
tions, to see if any of their acquaintance were to be
found amongst the new comers.

82 MEMOIRS OF

CHAPTER IV.

Enter Mill Prison — Friendship of townsmen — Goes to
School in Prison — Manners and Customs — Prisoners
escape — The Guards deceived — Sent to the Hospital —
Ben Hunt — Mr. Lawrence — Discharged from Hos~
pital— Returns to Prison — Jack Briard — Sent on
board Cartel — Long passage — Arrives at Marblehead
— Travels home a beggar.

I HAD not time to look about myself in my new, and so
much uesired quarters, before I was accosted by one and
another, (seizing me by the hand,) " how fare ye ship
mates, where are you from?" I hailed, from Piscatr.qua;
(that is the name of the river dividing Maine from New
Hampshire; Portsmouth laying on the west, and Kittery
on the east side. The Piscataqua men were called and
drew off towards the centre of the yard, and formed a
circle round me; I being the only one who came from
that river. No one who was not from that river presum
ed to intrude. I very soon ascertained that a number of
my townsmen had left Portsmouth several months sub
sequent to my leaving it; consequently I had nothing to
tell them from home.

From Portsmouth I found Capt. John Seward, An
drew Tombs, Daniel Huntress, Badger, Michael Hook
er, R. S. Tibbits and Nathaniel Kennerd.

From Kittery, Capt. Mark Firnald, Capt. James
Brown, Thomas .Brown, B. Dum, Aaron Goodwin, .Enoch
Clerk, Edmund Fornald, Benjamin Moore, James Hoo
per and Richard Perry, and probably some others whose
names I have forgotten. Most of those persons were
afterwards masters of vessels. Mr. Tibbits, of whom I
shall have occasion to speak hereafter, was the only
person amongst them with whom I had had any ac
quaintance, though the most of the Portsmouth people
had known my father. It was now near night; I had
eaten nothing since the morning, and had now got to a
hungry place. Daniel, who was afterwards Capt. Hun-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 83

tress, brought me a penny roll and a halfpenny worth of
butter, which was very acceptable.

It was now January, and I had not a single article of
clothing except what I had upon my back. I had a suf
ficient number of contemptible animals about me, which
I had unavoidably brought from the Dunkirk. If I do
not mistake, his Majesty provided hammocks and a blan
ket or two for the prisoners. The next day my towns
men gave me some old shirts and stockings, and advised
me to dislodge my domestic enemies if possible. There
was a pump in the yard, and a trough to wash our clothes
in; nor was there much danger of their being stolen
while drying; for the prisoners, notwithstanding they
were located within the absolute dominions of his Brit
annic Majesty, adventured to form themselves into a re
public, framed a constitution and enacted wholesome
laws, with suitable penalties. My friends held a consul
tation amongst themselves respecting me. Some one
spoke after this manner: " It will be a pity if this young
countryman of ours should spend his time while here
as many of the boys do, at gaming; he is fatherless, and
has no education; perhaps he might be prevailed with,
to go to school." " If he will," said one, " I will give
him some paper;" said another, " I will give him some
quills and ink." Said R, S. Tibbits, who was after
wards Capt. Tibbits, "I will undertake to instruct him."
They appointed a committee to confer with me upon the
subject; this committee communicated to me the sub
stance of their consultation, and advised me to comply
with their wishes. I could not but feel a grateful sense
of their benevolence, and although I was fond of cards,
&c. I promised to deny myself, altogether, and adhere
to their advice.

I had never had six months' schooling in my life, nor
had even one month's schooling after I was seven year*
old. I could, however, make out to read a chapter tol
erably well in the New-Testament. Roderick Random,,
and several other novels had fallen into my hands; I was
pleased wiih their contents, and they improved my read
ing considerably. But I could not write my name. I
do not know that I had e-ver written a line in my life.

84 MEMOIRS OF

nor could I enumerate three figures. I commenced
writing with Mr. Tibbits, and made rapid progress; my
mind was entirely taken up with the business, and my
friends were much gratified with my improvement, and
even if their encomiums excited my vanity, they also
prompted to unwearied application, and persevering im
provement. I very soon became entirely indifferent to
all kinds of gaming, and found sufficient amusement with
my pen and pencil; and even when nature required
some relaxation from my studies, it was more agreeable
to me" to walk alone in the yard, than to join in any kind
of play. Although more than forty -eight years have
gone by since my confinement commenced in that prison,
I shall here, so far as my memory shall aid me, give a
description of the place, together with some of the max
ims, customs, and employments, &c. of the prisoners.

This prison was situated on a promontory, projecting
into the sound, between Plymouth and Plymouth Dock,
two considerable towns; it lies on the right hand, as
you go from Dock to Plymouth, and about an equal dis1
tance from either. Formerly there stood wind mills on
this eminence, which circumstance gave it the name of
" Mill Hill;" hence the prison was called " Mill Prison."
There were three buildings, one of which had been built
in queen Ann's time, as tradition informs us. The lar
gest building was a hundred feet long and about twenty
feet wide; situated at the north end of the yard. It was
two stories high, built with stone and lime, having no
windows on the north front. There was a space of about
twenty feet between this building and the commissary's
office, which stood to the west, but had no windows in
the east end. A wall on the north as high as the eaves
of the prison, extended from the prison to the office; a
sinrilar wall on the south, joined the two buildings. Im
this wall was a gate leading into the main yard.

It will hereafter appear why I am so particular in de
scribing this little yard. I have already spoken of a
small necessary yard in front of the commissary's office;
south of this yard was the cook room on the ground floor.
In the north end of one of the other buildings, which
stood in a line, making the west side of the yard0 A

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 85

space between the prisons answered as a yard for both.
On the south of our common yard was a stone wall, four
teen feet high, with broken glass bottles set in lime mor
tar on the top, to prevent climbing over. There was
a similar wall on the east; altogether enclosing something
like half an acre. In this yard was set a lamp post, and
near the cook room was a pump of good water.

By day I think there were but one or two sentinels in
the yard, but by night 1 believe there were at least four,
and as large a number without the walls; together with
four in the long prison, two above and two below, with
a proportionable number in the other prisons. I think
the whole number of American prisoners was between
eight and ten hundred. Our south wall divided between
us and the French prison yard. The hospital, consisting
of thirteen wards, as I understood, and the guard house,
were situated south-west of our yard, at a convenient
distance. There was no way of communication between
them except by the great gate.

There had been no release, or exchange of prisoners
from this place for many months. At different times,
numbers had deserted and some had shipped on board
his Majesty's ships, and thereby were absolved from the
heinous crime of c rebellion, piracy,' &c.

At an early period it was found necessary to have
some mode of government among the prisoners. I be
lieve I have heard their articles read; but I do not now
recollect the particulars. However, if any person was
found guilty of any transgression, he had a legal trial
and was punished according to the crime. There had
been one or more instances of tying up to the lamp post,
and putting a dozen lashes on the bare back.

The provision while I was there, was in general, pret
ty good, but we had not half enough of it. I think we
were allowed twelve ounces of bread, and twelve ounces
of beef, per day. We were divided into messes, four in
a mess. At eleven o'clock, we drew a three pound
loaf to each mess. The bread was very dark colored, /
and was supposed to have been composed of rye, oats,
barley, and peas; the members of each mess would gen
erally convene when the bread was served out. One
8

8G MEMOIRS OF

person would divide the loaf into quarters, as exactly as
he could; then one of the mess would turn his back,
and another, in the presence of the rest, touch a piece
of the bread, saying to him who had turned his back,
who shall have that? ' John,7 who shall have that? ' my
self,' and who shall have that? 'you shall have it;' of
course, the fourth quarter must, fall to the one not named.
There had in time past, been some serious difficulties
about the division of the beef. The beef is weighed out
to the cook in the gross, and an allowance made for the
turn of the scale to each mess; it is, therefore, divided
into as many lots as there are messes; as equally as pos
sible. The messes in rotation, send one of their num
ber into the cook room every day. The mess which
sends the man, is called the blind mess. This man su
perintends the division of the beef, w:hich is stuck on the
long iron skewers while raw. This Hind mess has its
part by wreight, without bone, and a sufficient quantity of
fat out of the common stock to fry it in. The blind mess
generally calculated to have a feast on this day, some
thing like a yankee thanksgiving. There is no door
from the yard into the cook's room, but there is a small
windowr, through which the bowls of soup are passed.
The beef is brought round through the commissary's
yard and set under a shed by the cook's room window.
While the man of the blind mess, who superintended
the cookery is cooking his portion for himself and mess
mates, another man of the same mess is blindfolded,
and kneels down over the tub of meat, and one of the
cooks, who is not a prisoner, begins to call the numbers
of the messes in order. These numbers are one day
called forwards, and the next day backwards. When
the cook calls a mess by their number, the blind man,
with his fore finger, touches a lot of the meat, and, not
withstanding all their punctiliousness, some lots will be
worth as much again as others. Those who get a very
door lot, generally stand by until all the messes are
called, and if any small pieces are left in the tub, it is ju
diciously divided amongst those whose lots were defic
ient. While they are serving the meat, another of the
cooks is passing out the bowls of broth; the bowls are

tj

ANDREW SHERBURNEJ^ 87

all numbered on the rim. In eachVjjowJ is about two

quarts of broth. ^^T«4 T T!?(\TV*

One of each mess attends to get the meat, and anothefr
to get the soup. They form t\vo ranks from the cook's
room window, and pass the bowls along from one to
another, and when a man sees his own, he takes it, steps
backward and carries it to the mess station where the
meat is also brought and divided.

Some of the people would eat all their allowance as
fast as it came to hand, others made two parts of it, and
some would divide it into three parts.

The bread was universally called Brown George.
This was a compliment paid to his Majesty. I used
generally to eat a small quantity of bread with my soup,
and divide my meat and the remainder of my bread in
two equal parts, lor my supper and breakfast; this was
scanty living; when in health our appetites were pretty
teen.

Mr. John Wentworth, the last Governor of New Hamp
shire under his Majesty, was at that time in England,
and some of the Portsmouth people borrowed small
sums of money of him and were to refund the money to
the Governor's mother who lived in Portsmouth.

Some of the Kittery people had sailed in privateers
from France, and had some money with them when they
were taken. There were individuals who would furnish
themselves with a kettle, a few pounds of coffee, and a
small quantity of fuel, (bones were carefully collected
for fuel,) and mflke coffee and sell for half a penny a pint,
and if they could realize the gain of three or four pence,
or even but one penny a day, it was an inducement to
continue the business.

Mr. Bodge, of Portsmouth, was an artist in making
punch ladles, of appletree wood. 1 believe he made some
which were sold for nearly a half a guinea; wooden
spoons, busks, and knitting sheaths, were very curious
ly wrought. Capt. James Brown, of Kittery, taught
navigation, and employed his leisure hours in manufac
turing nets for drying glue.

Ship building was the most extensive business which
was carried on. I have no doubt there are ships now ia
England, which were built in Mill Prison. An old Mr.

88 MEMOIRS OP

Hudson was indefatigable in building sloops and schoon
ers; and would generally have some on hand; he gen
erally supplied the boys, whose curiosity led them to
take a peep at the yankees. The old gentleman would
sell them from a penny to two or three shillings. There
were sloops of war, frigates, two deckers, and even three
deckers built or manufactured there. A Mr. John
Deadman of Salem, a brother of William, (whom I before
mentioned) exceeded all others in this business; he built
one which was not more than a foot in length, which I
think he sold for four guineas; he built a three decker
and rigged her completely, which, (if I do riot mistake,)
he sold for twenty guineas. She was between three
and four feet in length; she showed three tier of guns,
had her anchors on her bows, and her cable bent; by
pulling gently on one cable, the parts on one deck would
all fly open, by pulling on another, the guns would all
run out of the ports: the same process would have the
same effect on the other decks. My impression is, that
he was twenty two months in building her. There was
nothing left undone, to obtain a little money, in order to
augment our small stock of provisions.

Dr. Franklin was at that time our minister at the
court of France: he took a deep interest in the concerns
of the prisoners in England: previously to my going into
that prison, he furnished each prisoner with a shilling
sterling a week. It was so very difficult for the Doctor
to obtain funds, that this donation would discontinue for
weeks and sometimes for months. After I had been
there a month or two, this donation was received, and I
found that one shilling per week added much to our com
fort; it served to supply us with a tolerable comfortable
meal each day.

Various arts were employed to obtain the news. A
newspaper would sometimes be obtained in a loaf of
bread; I believe that news of the capture of Cornwallis
was obtained in this way, not long before I entered the
prison. The prisoners were not a little animated on this
occasion. I was informed that a considerable number
furnished themselves with the American ensign, painted
on half a sheet of paper, having the English ensign also
painted below the Union, and sticking this half sheet in-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 89

to their hat bands, paraded the yard, huzzaing in such
a manner as to alarm the commissary; his name was
Gowdray, He was a petulant old fellow, and the pris
oners, and especially the Marblehead men, took pleasure
in affronting him. On this occasion the whole guard
came into the yard, and some of the prisoners had the
hardihood to insult the guard, and dare them to fire upon
them; but, by the interposition of some of the American
officers, the tumult subsided without any mischief.

Every evening before the sun went down, the officers
who were on guard, came into the yard with a number
of soldiers, and gave orders for every man to go into the
prison. An officer stands at each door, and counts the
men as they walk leisurely into the prison, the doors are
then locked. In the morning they are counted out
again. One evening while I was there, a prisoner in
the upper story had been picking a bone, and threw it out
of the window through the grates; it fell on the sentinel's
head. He immediately walked up to the lower window,
directly under that from which the bone fell, clapped his
gun into the window and fired up through the floor; the
ball went through a hammock in which a man was lying,
but no one was injured. The report of the musket imme
diately alarmed the guurd, who came mustering into the
yard; the prisoners were much enraged, and swore they
would kill that soldier if he was ever placed as sentinel
in the yard again. There was one regiment occasion
ally on guard, against which the prisoners were very
much prejudiced. 1 do not now recollect the number
of the regiment.

There were about a dozen prisoners made their escape
one night while I was there.

They effected it in the following manner. They by
some means, got one of the grates out of the chamber
window which was directly over the west end door of the
Jong prison; they took a loose beam and ran it out of the
window in an oblique direction, so as just to make it reach
over the north wall of the necessary yard; they lashed
hammocks together, suspended them from the end of the
beam, and lowered themselves down; and I believe they
all made their escape. I do not recollect that any of
8*

90 MEMOIRS OF

them were brought back again as was frequently the
case. When deserters were delected and brought back,
they were doomed to suffer a certain number of days in
the dark hole, so called; they were liable also to be im
pressed and put on board a man of war. The beam was
taken and carefully replaced, and the grate was also re
placed in the window. In this window the grates ran
up and down, there were no cross grates to it.

It was an object with the prisoners, when any mischief
had taken place, to conceal it until the before mentioned
regiment mounted guard. They must, therefore, have
recourse to the stratagem which they had before invent
ed, and practised on such occasions.

It will be recollected, that I have before mentioned
a gate which opened out of the necessary yard into the
main yard. In this gate there was a hole about four feet
from the ground; (I have understood that this hole was
designed to pass cans of water through;) it was not suffi
ciently large, however, for a man to get through, unless
he was very small. When the morning came, it was
necessary that the officers should number as many per
sons out, as they had numbered in the evening before;
there must, therefore, be some management on the part
of the prisoners to conceal the fraud. There were a
number of boys in this prison, as well as in the other pris
ons, and depend ance must be placed on those lads to
make up the number; they must, therefore, be got out
as soon as practicable. A group of the prisoners who
are first out, station themselves about this gate; they take
up a lad and crowd him through the hole in the gate; there
are suitable persons within to receive him, he goes in at the
end door, and presents himself to the officer at the fore
door, and is numbered a second time. Shortly after,
a second lad is crowded through the hole, and sometimes
the same lad has to pass through the hole the second and
third time, for want of a sufficient number who are suit
ably small: in this case he will probably wear a cap, in
stead of his hat, or he may go out the first time bare
headed. They may sometimes borrow a boy or two,
who, by another officer has been numbered out of some
other prison. Sometimes the poor fellows have a hard

ANDREW 3HERBURNJ2 91

time in getting through the hole, and will squall a little;
but the shouting and laughter of the prisoners in every
direction, in the prison and out, prevent the boys' being
heard by the officer.

This trick, (and I presume it might pass for a "Yankee
trick,") must be played over and over again, until our
friends shall have had opportunity to escape or conceal
themselves, and the hated regiment should come on guard.
It was to me a matter of surprise how those men should
get away and I have no knowledge of it, though I lay at
the time within ten yards of the window. It was yet
more astonishing that they should elude the notice of the
sentinel.

At length the regiment before mentioned came on
guard, (I do not suppose that the whole regiment moun
ted guard at once,) and there was no more squeezing
the boys through the hole in the gate. There being
twelve or thirteen missing, the prisoners must all be
numbered again and again, and when it was fully ascer
tained that there were so many missing, "There was no
small stir among the soldiers."

Colonel Laurens, of Charleston, S. C. had been ap
pointed by Congress our minister to Holland; but on his
way, was captured by the British, and as a rebel, impris
oned in the Tower at London. After his Majesty had
received the news of the surrender of Lord Cornwallis,
the Colonel was released from the Tower upon a parole
of honor, and visited Mill Prison. The prisoners consid
ered this visit as a high compliment, and treated him with
every mark of respect; indeed, the gravity and dignity
of his appearance commanded respect.

I diligently pursued my studies of arithmetic and ge
ometry, with a design to enter upon navigation; but when
the spring came on, it was very sickly among us; sever
al of my townsmen were quite unwell, and needed my
assistance. They had been so very kind to me, that I
cheerfully devoted myself to their service.

From this circumstance, I suspended my studies, ex
pecting to commence them in a few days; but it proved
far otherwise. A material change was taking place
amongst the prisoners; many were drooping here and

92 MEMOIRS OF

there, and numbers were daily sent off to the hospital.
My little services were daily more and more needed.
At length I became quite indisposed myself, but did not
complain: the next day I was more unwell yet, but con
tinued to attend on my messmates. On the third morn
ing I rose up in my hammock, feeling very unwell, but
determined not to be confined; my head ached violently,
I thought I would lie down a few minutes, and then get
up and attend on my sick friends. I rose up again, but
my sight left me; I was soon surronded by my neighbors,
and 1 now recollect having heard some of them say,
"Sherburne is out of his head," I attempted to get out
of my hammock, but was prevented by my friends, James
Hooper, and Benjamin Moor. I bled at the nose, and
my mind was unsettled. The physicians, at this time,
visited the prison every day, (though at other times,
they did not visit the prison once in severed weeks,) one
of them called to look at me, and ordered me immediate
ly to the hospital, I recollect that I was led to the hos
pital by two men, that I was extremely distressed while
vomiting, and while I was undressed. From that time,
I was almost entirely deranged for several weeks. 1 do
not recollect, that I was «ver informed what my disease
was denominated by the physicians ; at any rate, they,
for a while, despaired of my recovery.

In the course of my confinement, I had short lucid in
tervals: and realized extreme depression, both of body
and of mind. I was fearful I should not recover, and
was filled with horror. I had a deep sense of my respon
sibility to my Creator. I brought to view my previous
sickness, dangers, deliverances, and my solemn promi
ses to God, that I would reform. My own conscience
weighed me in the ballance, and I was "found want
ing" I endeavored to send up my cry to God for mercy,
but O! wretched, wretched was my state; I feared an
awful hell! After a few minutes pensive reflection, my
mind would relapse again, and I would find myself all
in darkness and confusion. On the return of my rea
son again I had some recollection of the whimsical no
tions that were upon my mind while I was deranged. —
I lay in the sick ward, in which there were, perhaps.

ANDREW SHEREURNE, 93

twelve or fifteen others, who were very sick, but none
of them deranged, to my knowledge.

Our beds were about three or four feet apart, in two
tiers, their heads to the wall on each side, and a space
of six or eight feet, between their feet. The floor was
a brick pavement. One night in my phrenzy, I imagined
I was shipwrecked on Cape Ann, and exerting all my
strength to get on shore, and frequently succeeded so far
as to get my body half on shore, but the strength of the
waves while receding, would drag me off again, and af
ter very hard struggling with the waves, I would regain
the shore again, and would so far succeed as to inspire a
confidence that I should escape: but alas! I was drawn
off again and again.

Without doubt 1 was as much distressed in mind, as
though it had all been real; I was at length delivered by
an unseen hand. Some time after this, (probably the
next day,) I had my reason for a while, and perceived
that the inside of my hands was exceeding black; I was
surprised. At first, I had the weakness to suppose that
the skin on the inside of rny hands had died, and was
pealing off. But on closer inspection I perceived it to
be dirt, and spoke to some of my room- mates on the cir
cumstance, who informed me that I had wallowed on the
floor; and I found my knees were in a similar condi
tion with my hands. Whether I got off of my bed de
signedly or accidentally, I cannot say; but finding my
self off, I endeavored to get on again, and would get up
on my knees and lay my breast upon my bed, then raise
up one knee upon the edge of the bed, and as soon as I
lifted the other knee from the floor, I would fall back on
the floor again. How long I was in this situation or by
what means I was relieved, I cannot say; thus my ship
wreck and deliverance is interpreted.

This circumstance occasioned watchers to be sent
into this ward. My bed was moved from the corner of
the room to the centre, and two young men from the
prison volunteered to watch me. I presume I was quite
troublesome. 1 have at this time a perfect recollection
of some of the occurrences which took place at the time.
I supposed myself to have been placed on a bed on the

94 MEMOIRS OF

broad stair of the long prison; the two young men seem
ed to have been bed-fellows with me; and \ve seemed
all to have got into a mutual humorous scuffle. But I
thought I discovered partiality in them, and was soon
convinced that they were both against me, and they ar
bitrarily insisted on my continuing there, while they
(alter they had worried me out) would seat themselves
at a little distance arid laugh at me. This treatment I
very much resented, and as soon as I had recovered
breath, would make another attempt to leave the bed.
They would immediately rise and prevent, and even,
hold me down. This they did several times.

At length, one time while they were adjusting the bed
clothes, 1 cautiously and suddenly drew up my knees
over my breast, and clapped my feet against the breast
of one of those young men, and directly laid him sprawl
ing on the floor; the other young man was so engaged
in laughter, that, he could pay but little or no attention
to me. I was directly on end in the bed, determined to
quit this unpleasant confinement, and vainly imagining
that I had more than half gained the victory; but the
young man very soon rose from the floor, met me,
caught me by the shoulders, and gave me a pretty se
vere shake, and laid me down again. This brought me
to myself; I perfectly understood the whole business,
and for the then present time gave them no further
trouble. I felt extremely weak, and was glad to lay still.
Said Dick to Jim, " I think he sheeted you home nicely."
" Yes," said Jim, with a very hard word, lt who would
have thought he had been so strong."

This humorous circumstance excited no levity in me
at that time: I was so exceedingly exhausted, that it
seemed us if soul and body must very shortly part. The
doctor had ordered a blister on my neck and shoulders,
.six or seven inches square. When Ben Hunt, rny nurse,
put the blister on, I was tolerably rational, and said to
him, " Ben, how long before you will dress my blister?"
" In twenty-four hours," said Ben. I was very careful
to notice where the sun shone in on the wall at that
time, so as to know whether I should be neglected. I
soon got into a drowse, but in less than an hour I arous-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 95

ed up again and my first business was to ascertain wheth
er the twenty-four hours had elapsed, for I thought
my blister demanded attention. I carefully noticed the
shining of the sun on the wall, and so far as it had gone
from the mark, so long in my imagination I had been
neglected; and therefore thought it necessary to remind
Ben of his duty, and began to call out for Ben Hunt,
and in order to be in readiness for him, I got up in my
bed, and continued my vociferations for Ben Hunt.

I was preparing to get off' my shirt, some of my room
mates interfered by remonstrating against my proceed
ings; (for they were unable otherwise to interfere) I gave
them what at that time I supposed to be a suitable rep
rimand, and continued to prepare for Ben. I unbutton
ed my sleeves and collar, took off my shirt, carefully roll
ed it up, lifted up the mattrass, and laid it upon the sack
ing bottom; I also took off my blister plaster and laid it
away with my shirt, still singing out for Ben Hunt. I
cannot say how my room-mates were entertained with my
management. They however assisted me in rallying Ben.
At length Ben came staving into the ward with his eyes
wide open, and his yellow hair waving on his shoulders,
not a little alarmed at hearing so many calling out to him
at the same time. His attention was directed and im
mediately turned to Sherburne. He came at me in haste
and in a great rage. He had no sooner opened the door,
however, than I assailed him with a severe reprimand
for neglecting a fellow at this rate. He caught me by
the shoulders and gave me a shake, nor was hrs address
to me more delicate than mine had been to him. He
had no sooner shaken me than my senses returned, and
1 immediately sunk into his hands. He inquired for the
plaster and shirt, I readily told him; he put them on again,
and covered me over, swore pretty hard at me and left
me. I made no reply.

I believe I had watchers that night, but they had less
cause to complain than before, for I believe that I rested
tolerably well. In the morning when Ben dressed my
blister I was quite relieved from the pain which had tor
tured my breast, and Ben was in a much pleasanter
mood than when he caught me with my shirt off. But I
was extremely languid, and so continued for sometime.

U6 MEMOIRS OF

1 do not now recollect, the name of our hospital physi
cian; but I believe his name was Ran. At any rate he
was one of the best of men and paid especial attention to
the sick. Uncle Lawrence (as every body called him)
was overseer; he was a prisoner, and had been from the
commencement of the war.

Under veiy peculiar circumstances he went into the
hospital at an early period, and there become a convert to
the Christian religion; and such was his deportment,
that he commanded the respect of all who knew him.
The physicians had so much confidence in him that they
made him overseer of the nurses and the sick.

It was a great blessing to the sick in those hospitals,
that they were under the care of such a physician as doc
tor Ran, and that the nurses should be under the care
and direction of a man so affectionate and faithful as
was Mr. Lawrence.

When it pleased God to restore my reason, I discov
ered that I was exceeding weak and continued so for
some time. . 1 was not able to raise myself up in bed. —
I ascertained that my cure was doubtful in the judgment
of the physicians: and when I began to mend it was ve
iy slowly.

One day two of my young friends came to me and said.
"Sherburne, why do you lie here ? come you must get up."
I told them I should be glad if I could. They said they
would help me, and that the doctor had directed Ihem
to help me up. They got my clothes and put them on.
This was probably sometime in the month of May. —
They led me into the yard; one on each side, holding
me up by the arms. As soon as they had led me into
the sun, I fainted: they took me up and carried me into
the room where there were two outer doors which were
opposite to each other, in which were several couches to
accommodate the convalescent. Here they laid me
on a couch. I spent most of the day in this place, and
felt some refreshed. The next day I was taken out a-
gain, and in the course of the day I was able to stand
alone, with a staff in my hand. I was treated very kind
ly by the doctor and uncle Lawrence, but I gained but
very slowly,

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 97

Several weeks before this time, the prisoners had re
ceived the intelligence that shortly there was to be a
general exchange of prisoners, and about the time I got
on to my legs again, the Lady's Adventure, a ship of
four hundred tons, commanded by Capt. Mitchel Hum
ble, had actually got into the sound or harbor. There
was joy indescribable among the prisoners. My doctor,
in order to raise my spirits, told me the ship had arrived
to take us to our own country ; that she would sail in two or
three weeks, and that I must take the best possible care
of myself, that I might go in her. A week or ten days
passed away and I mended very slowly,

The ship before mentioned was bound to Boston, and
in a week or two another was going to Philadelphia, and
in a few weeks after a third would sail with the remain
der of the prisoners for some port of the United States.

Finally the time arrived for the doctor to discharge
from the hospital all that were sufficiently recovered. —
Every man went to his own bed and sat until the doc
tor passed him. He passed by me with some pleasant
ceremony. But I perceived he had not taken down my
name. My heart almost sunk within me. I arose and
followed him, and as he was about leaving the hospital,
I said to him " Doctor, I believe you have not got my
name." He replied, " God bless you, my son; it will
never do for you to think of leaving the hospital in your
situation. You are a more suitable person to enter a
hospital than to leave one." " Sir," said I, " you prom
ised me that I should go in this ship." Said he, " I was
in hopes you would have been able to go in her, but you
are so sick that it will never do: you would not live to
get outside the Eddystone; there are four hundred or
more going in her, and they will be so crowded, that you
would die directly. I should be very happy to discharge
you if I thought it would do. We have had such a hard
time in raising you so far, that I should be very sorry to
lose you now, and especially through imprudence. —
You would never live to see America, and your blood
would be on my head. There is another ship going in a
week or two, have patience, and stay until she is ready,
and by that time I am in hopes you will be strong enough
9

98 MEMOIRS OF

to go." " But, Sir," said I, " the other ship is going to
Philadelphia, and I should he a great way from home."
aNo matter for that," replied the doctor, "you will be
ia your own country." " But, Sir," said I, "all my ac
quaintance and townsmen are going in this ship, and
she is going near my home, and if 1 do not go in her, I
shall never get home. I have a number of good friends
up in the prison, who are going in this; t am sure they
will take good care of me; but if they all go and leave
me, I shall never get home." Uncle Lawrence, and
twenty others were listening to the doctor and me, and
as I turned my eyes toward uncle Lawrence, I saw the
tears trickling down his manly face. The beloved doc
tor was in the same condition, and my readers must judge
for themselves, how it was with me. Uncle Lawrence
then spoke and said, "Doctor, I don't know but that you
may as well discharge him, and as I am going in the
same ship, if you will discharge him I will give you my
word, that I will pay particular attention to him." "O
well, well," said the doctor, " in that case, uncle Law
rence, I will venture to discharge him; for I can trust
him in your care, and I hope he will do well, but if he
dies, his blood must be upon his own head." " O, Sir,"
said I, (feeling almost well,) " the sea always agrees
well with me, and I believe I should gain faster on board
the ship than I should here." The good doctor placed
my name on the list of the discharged, gave us the best
wishes, and left us. The same day we were guarded
from the hospital to the prison,

I shall now venture to detail some peculiar occurren
ces which I had heretofore resolved never to express
either with my tongue or pen. But having receded
from that determination, I shall narrate the circumstances
as correctly as my memory will admit. When our com
pany from the hospital entered the prison yard, the first
of my townsmen who spoke to me was John B — r. He
was a respectable young man, but rather profane, and
at this time he had been drinking rather freely. As they
were to leave the prison that afternoon, they allowed
themselves some strong beer, which at any time might
be had at the gate; and although most of them were

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 99'

destitute of money, those who had it would supply the
destitute, and indeed they were all lively and rather noi
sy, hut this was not to be wondered at on the present
occasion. John 13 — r accosted me as follows: " Why
d — nye, Sherburne, are you alive? We heard you were
dead. Why I thought the d — 1 had got you before this
time. We did'nt know tho' hut that you might go to
heaven. Why they said that Sherburne was as crazy as
the d 1? down there in the hospital, and that he pray
ed like a minister. I don't know hut that you might
have gone to heaven."

If 1 had been detected in the grossest villainy, I should
not have felt more mortified. I did not know that there
was a creature in existence that had ever heard me pray;
and was ashamed to have it known among my shipmates,
that I prayed.

Such is the depravity of the human heart, that \ve are
ashamed to have it thought that we have any true rever
ence for God or any regard for the eternal welfare of the
immortal soul. 1 hurried out of Jack's sight as soon as
possible, and began to reflect on the scenes through which
I had passed in the hospital, and in addition to those
which I have already related, the followiag came fresh
into my mind.

I recollected that while in the hospital, I had the impres
sion, that myself, and many others, were on an exten
sive hay of broken ice, some miles from the land; that
myself and hundreds were making our flight toward the
shore with great precipitation, springing Irom one piece
of ice to another; some pieces seemed to be several
yards in diameter, and others not more than a foot. In
some instances the spaces were so great between the
pieces that it required the utmost effort to leap from one
to another: and to increase our distress, Satan was pur
suing hard after u«. I have no recollection of having
seen him, but I have of hearing the shrieks of others
whom he caught, and was every moment in fear of being
caught myself. I did not dare to look behind me, lest it
should retard my flight. It is utterly impossible to de
scribe the terror I then felt. My strength was so much
exhausted that it did not seem possible that I could much

100 MEMOIRS OF

longer continue my flight, and my foothold seemed more
and more precarious, and to add to my affliction, the
land was receding. Consternation and despair got hold
on me: I thought if I could fly, 1 might possibly escape,
and at the same moment I lifted my eyes, and in the air
I saw a place of safety two or three hundred feet high;
and at an angle of about forty-five degrees. But I had
no wings unless I could substitute my arms for wings.
Immediately my arms became wings, and I found my
self fluttering and rising. The place which I beheld,
was a sort of a cupola or gallery; the part towards me
was of a simicircular form, in which was the appearance
of three persons, apparently of angelic form, the middle
figure or person rather advanced, and all appeared per
fectly stationary. But I found myself by no means an ar
tist at flying: however I continued to rise, and thought
best to endeavor to shape my course so as to rise higher
than this gallery, lest, in consequence of my awkwardness
in flying, I should make some blunder and fall short of my
desired object. I therefore rose several degrees above
this object, and when I changed my course, it proved
according to my fears, and I was beginning to sink, but
this gallery left its station, and gently waved toward me,
so that I just reached the foot between the middle per
son's feet. I seemed to myself to be quite a small an
imal. When I first began to exercise my wings and rise,
my distress and fears began to subside, and my joy in
creased; yet I was not without fear, and when 1 began
to come short, I began to despair; but when I obtained
my object, I was perfectly happy. I felt something as
I did when I landed on Cape St. Mary's, from the wreck
of the Duchess of Cumberland.

For some time after John B. expressed himself as be
fore related, I was very fearful that he or some other
would bring the subject forward again; but I never heard
any more of it.

The time was now come for us to embark for our na
tive land, and the people generally were all life on the
occasion. Some of them had been there more than six
years. I felt quite revived on being discharged from the
hospital; but after all could make out to walk but poorly,

ANDREW 8HERBURNE.

with two small canes. With difficulty

-get to the water side, about twenty rods,

to get on board the boat without help, and when we got

alongside of the ship, my friends put me on board. Sly

Portsmouth and Kittery friends released my good friend

Lawrence, from his charge.

Capt. John Seward, Capt. Mark Firnald, Ephraim
Clark, Aaron Goodwin, Mr. Bodge, and Nehemiah
Weymouth, having some money, procured sea stores,
viz. coffee, tea, sugar, &c. which together with the
ship's allowance admitted of their living very well. —
They very kindly took me into their mess, and promised
to take care of me upon the condition that if I got
able, I should wait on the mess: that was to boil tea-ket
tle, Sic. I believe the ship did not lie in port many
hours after we got on board, before we were under way
for the land of liberty. My good friends took care of
me, and I was very careful of myself, and found that
I gained very fast; and in the course of a week was able
to wait on the mess. This was only to boil the tea-ket
tle night and morning; and in a fortnight I was able to
get to mast head. The ship's crew had but very little
to do, for there were so many smart sailors among the
prisoners, who had been so long conh'ned, that it was
diversion for them to work the ship.

We had not been out many days before there was a
revolution on board. His Majesty allowed us only two-
thirds allowance; but it was ascertained that there was
a great plenty of provisions on board. The yankees
were determined to have enough to eat, and there being
a number of active officers among us, they and the sail
ors laid the plan, and at a certain signal being given,
the men were to rush upon the quarter deck, and take
the helm, and our officers were to inform the Captain
that they had command of his ship. They made no re
sistance, nor would it have been of any consequence
for them, for they were under forty, and there was
something like four hundred of us. All that we reques
ted was full allowance. And having obtained our pur
pose, the ship was given up to Capt. Humble again.

We had rather a kmg, though a very pleasant pas-
9*

102 MEMOIRS OF

sage. The ship was ordered to Boston, but having fal
len in to the east of Boston, and there being a large
proportion of Marblehead men on board, they insisted
upon going into Marblehead. Myself and my friend
Wilds among the rest,

Thus by the mercy of God, we once more set our feet
on the American shore, after having been absent
about fifteen months. It was truly astonishing to me
when i recapitulated and brought again to view,
the various changing scenes through which 1 had passed
since I first went on board the Greyhound. It was now
about two years since I landed at Rhode-Island, from
Charleston, S. C, I had then a guardian, but now I
had none; and was moneyless, but I recollected that by
Capt. Wild's recommendation, the crew of the Grey
hound had appointed a Mr. Foster, of Salem, our agent.
I inquired out the gentleman and found him in Salem,
which adjoins Marblehead, where we landed. But Mr.
Foster knew nothing of us personally, though our names
had been returned to him as belonging to the crew of the
Greyhound.

He was therefore inquisitive with us, for both Wilds
and myself had entered the privateer after sue left Sa
lem. When in conversation with Mr. Foster, Mr.
Tucker, who was first Lieutenant of the Greyhound,
came in, (it is probable Mr. F. had sent for him,) and
the conversation continued some time before either
AVilds or myself recognised Lieut. Tucker; he being at
this time genteelly dressed, he made a very different ap
pearance from what he did when on board the privateer.

We learned by Lieut. Tucker that nothing was known
of our fate since we left the privateer, and it was suppos
ed that we were lost at sea. We also learned by him that
the Greyhound after we left her had taken a valua
ble prize: a brig laden with English goods, stationary,
and provisions, bound to Quebec; and that the said
prize got safely into Salem, and the Greyhound was
captured by the enemy, taken into Halifax, and the
Crew after a short confinement were exchanged, and
all got home. Captain Tucker also informed us that
the owners of the Greyhound had built another privateer

ANDREW SHERBURXE, 103

with the avails of their prize, which was worth as much
again as the old Greyhound, and gave her the same
name, and that she was at that time at sea.

Mr. Foster informed us that our share of the prize
was sixty-three pounds sterling each, and that the goods
had been divided according to the invoice. I had left a
power of attorney with my mother, and she had employ
ed my uncle Timothy Weymouth, (whom I have before
mentioned) to draw my share of the goods and of the
money for which the brig was sold. Wilds' father had
also drawn his share; consequently there was nothing
coming to us. However, Captain Tucker and Mr.
Foster had the goodness to give us two or three dollars
each to bear our expenses home.

We took our leave of our generous friends, and be
took ourselves to our journey with a pleasure not easily
described. We had been companions in our travels for
about a year and a quarter, and had always been in per
fect harmony and friendship, and had now about forty-
five miles further to journey with each other; and having
no other company, it came in course for us to review
the various trying scenes we had passed together, and
to anticipate the joys we shortly expected in meeting our
friends.

My mother, brothers and sisters had despaired of ever
seeing me again, until some of my shipmates who were
ahead of me gave information of my being on the way
home; so that I did not come upon them unexpectedly.
I was, nevertheless, to them almost as one rose from the
dead. But "each^pleasure hath its poison." There was
no intelligence of Thomas, and my mother's joys were
mingled with pain, as my return excited a more anxious
concern for her first born.

Wilds tarried a night with me; in the morning I ac
companied him to the wharf, where he found a coaster
going to Saco, which was within four miles of Cape Per-
poise, where he lived. He went on board, and there we
parted, — and have never met each other since-

104 MEMOIRS OF

CHAPTER V.

Shipped Boatswain of the Brig Scorpion — chased by
British Frigate — Hove of deck load — Escape her—
(rocs to Guadaloupc — Chased by the Bee, a British
privateer — (jroes to Mount Saratt — Sails fur Alexan
dria, Vir. — Chased by a frigate — Captured by the
Amphion — Put on board the old Jersey — Sick on
board hospital ship — on board a second hospital ship
with his uncle — Went in a cartel to Newport, R. 1. —
Travels home a sick beggar.

I WAS at this time blessed with good health, and felt
as though I had never been otherwise. It was now un
speakably pleasant to visit my several uncles, aunts and
cousins, who had all despaired of ever seeing me again.

It would seem as if nothing could be more entertain
ing to my uncles and their children, than to hear An
drew's stories about a British man of war, shipwreck,
imprisonment, &.c. But this business would not do to
live by. Andrew had now health and some ambition,
and probably no small share of pride. Men who may
have patience to read these pages, will remember that
they were once boys.

It was now the question with me, what I should do.
How " to dig," I had almost forgotten, and " to beg I
was ashamed." There was a letter of marque brig of
eight carriage guns, called the Scorpion, fitting out for
the West-Indies, to be commanded by Capt. R. Salter;
and my good friend Richard S. Tibbitts, who was rny
tutor in Mill Prison, was going one of the mates, and I
had the offer of going boatswain, and the privilege of
four thousand of lumber to the VV est-Indies, and as much
as I wished from the West-Indies te Alexandria, in Vir
ginia; and from thence to France, I was to have the
privilege of two hogsheads of tobacco. The brig was
soon ready for sea; and I must soon leave my mother
and sisters again in tears. With eighteen hands we
shaped our course for the West-Indies. We had been
out about five days, and were descried by one of his most

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 105

gracious Majesty's frigates, which chased us from ten,
A. M. to three, P. M. under what the sailors would call
a stiff' and increasing breeze, and though our brig was
an excellent sailer, she rather gained upon us. We
were, therefore, obliged to heave off our deck load, and
then very easily escaped her.

Nothing especial hefel us after this, until we arrived
at Guadaloupe. Our Captain being dissatisfied with the
market, shaped his course for Montserrat. The British
cruisers at this time kept a sharp look out among the
West-India islands for the Yankees, and as we went
out of the bay, we discovered a brig which had conceal
ed herself behind a point of land. She appeared to be
in rather a careless situation, until \ve had got so far
from the harbor, that she could intercept our retreat;
she then began to make sale and gave us chase. We
had a fresh breeze, and were running almost before the
wind; the masts and spars of each vessel would about
bear all the sail we could crowd upon them. It was an
eventful period with us, for we saw that she was deter
mined to come up with us, and we had every reason to
believe she was an enemy, and that she had too many
guns for us. I presume there never was a fairer chase.

I do not now recollect the distance from Guadaloupe
to Montserrat, but be it more or less, she chased us from
one island, even into the harbor of the other. The chase
continued from eight or nine o'clock in the morning, un
til three or four, P. M.

Our pursuer was the brig Bee, mounting sixteen guns,
and reputed a very fast sailer. She was within a milo
of us when the chase began, and after having chased us
several hours, a heavy squall, (in which she was obliged
to douse a considerable number of her sails) brought her
within forty rod« of us, yet she did not fire a gun.

We had as many hands as were necessary to work
our vessel, and I question whether there was ever a ves
sel worked in a more masterly manner.

The same squall which struck the Bee, in turn struck
us also; but we having had opportunity to observe its
weight and effect upon the privateer, were better pre
pared for it. We being in complete readiness5 every

106 MEMOIRS OF

man having a perfect knowledge of his business — we
took in our studding-sails, clewed up our topgallant-
sails, and let run our top-sails, jib and stay-sails, and
immediately commenced setting them again. The Scor
pion now left the .Bee as fast us the Bee had gained on
the Scorpion in the time of the squall.

The Bee, notwithstanding, daringly continued her
chase even into the harbor of Montserrat. The Bee
kept French colors flying during the whole chase; but
I am not certain whether we showed any colors. We
ran as near the shore as we durst, and let go our an
chor. She came within a hundred yards of us, wore
ship and hailed us. While laying under our stern,
broadside too, she had opportunity to have done us
considerable injury, by raking us; but her commander
had the humanity and generosity to refrain from in
juring us, except to affrighten us, and more especially
the French pilot and his boat's crew, who bv this
time had got on board, and seeing the Bee laying
broadside to us, her ports up and guns out, were in
expectation of receiving a broadside.

Some of them jumped below and others fell upon
their faces, crying out "foutre d'Anglais." The Bee
stood to sea again, under all the saii she could set.

The fort immediately commenced firing upon her,
but she seemed to bid them defiance, by hauling down
her French colors and displaying the English flag,
and made her escape without receiving any injury. —
This extraordiaary chase and mancuuvreing must have
ba«*n highly interesting to a disinterested spectator.

This was my first voyage to the West-indies; conse
quently there were new scenes presented to my view.
It was appalling to my feelings, to sue the hungry and
almost naked slaves, toiling, and sometimes almost sink
ing under their burdens, and suffering the cruel scourges
of their drivers. Some of them having iron collars about
their necks, with a chain suspended from it: others with
an iron collar, with four hooks, fifteen or twenty inches
iong each; one extending over eacli shoulder, one ex
tending forward, and another behind. Others, again,
with a heavy chain fastened to the leg; and in other in-

ANDREW SHERBUHNE. 107

stances, two chained together. Their children in gen
eral were entirely naked. The men generally had no
other olotbing than a coarse apron, reaching nearly to
their knees; and the females no other clothing than a kind
of petticoat of coarse cloth. The females are frequently
seen carrying a tub of water, or a large basket of fruit, or
of bottles, upon their heads, so completely ballanced, as
not to have occasion to put their hands to them.

Their oranges, pine apples, and other fruits, were to
me a luxury indeed; but their water was by no means
agreeable, and it was the advice of our officers, that we
should drink none, without rum mixed with it.

As yet I had been very temperate. I had never been
partial to grog; it was indeed offensive to me; but while
working in the vessel's hole getting out lumber, and it
being exceedingly warm, I perspired abundantly, and
had frequently occasion to drink, so that by degrees,
grog was less offensive to me, and I may say with prc-
priety, that I never really loved it; but I could not say so
with respect to punch.

I had been very hard to work one day, and had drank
freely; in the evening I went ashore in the boat after
the Captain and with my shipmates went up to a grocery
and drank freely of punch, and to be in fashion, I took a
lighted cigar and walked down to the beach; but felt
very light headed. I felt very glad to get seated. The
Captain was ready, and we pulled off to the vessel; I
could handle my oar well enough, but found it rather dif
ficult getting on board the brig. Mr. Tibbits noticed my
situation, and the next day was careful to admonish me.
I was not a little mortified at the thought of having been
intoxicated, and resolved to guard against this destruc
tive practice.

Having discharged our cargo, and taken the avails in
West Indiaproduce, we shaped our course for Alexandria,
in Virginia. I had on board a hogshead of mm, a barrel
of sugar, and a barrel of limes. We met with nothing
extraordinary, until we came near the coast of Virginia,
we then experienced a dreadful gale of wind, in which
we felt ourselves in jeopardy. We got down our top gal
lant jards and masts, and settled our top masts about the

103 MEMOIRS OF

middle of the day; about midnight the gale abated. In
the morning, we had little wind but a heavy sea; and
we discovered three large ships within a few miles of us,
and perceived that they had experienced, the effects of
the gale as well as ourselves. We had no doubt that
they were British men of war. They, as well as ourselves,
got up topmasts, &c. They made sail, and gained upon
us; the wind was light; the sea abated; but there was a
very heavy swell.

Our vessel being much smaller than any of them, by
pitching at every swell, deadened her way. They gain
ed upon us quite fast. We very much feared we should
fall into their hands. We were disposed to use every
effort to escape them. We got out our long oars at about
eight in the morning, and rowed all day; we did not
leave off even to eat.

Our pursuers did not gain much upon us after twelve
o'clock. When night came on, the wind increased to
such a degree that our oars were no longer to be employ
ed to advantage. We made all sail we possibly could,
intending to stand on our course until ten o'clock, and
then heave in stays, hoping thereby to aviod our pursu
ers. At ten o'clock we had quite a fresh breeze, and
our Captain concluded to stand on until twelve. At
twelve o'clock we hove about, and kept a bright look out
until one, supposing that we had completely escaped our
pursuers; and indeed we had, but they were not our only
enemies.

At two o'clock we fell in with his Majesty's ship Am
phion. of forty guns. We were standing directly for
each other. As soon as we discovered her, we hove
about; but all our endeavors to escape her were abortive,
for we were within musket shot.

It is said of the ancient Amphion, that by the music
of his harp he built the city of Thebes. The music of
the modern Amphion, though not charming, was pow
erful: although she failed to bring us to by firing mus
kets, the discharge of a few of her heavy cannon accom
plished her object. We were then within two days sail
of our port, and we had fancied ourselves almost safe,
but our hopes of a prosperous voyage were now all blast-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 109

ed; our property gone, and we had no other prospect
than that of taking up our quarters on board the old Jer
sey prison ship, in New- York harbor.

This was now the third time I had fallen into the hands
of the enemy. I had but just escaped with my life from
tVe two preceding imprisonments, and my prospects
were more dubious than they had been before. It was
now about the middle of November, 1782, about one year
from the time I was released from the Fairy, in Plymouth
sound. It being night, the sailors plundered us of every
thing we did not hold fast in our hands. Our Captain,
Mr. Tibbits, and three others continued on board the
Scorpion, which was afterwards cast away, but I believe
no lives were lost.

Thirteen of us were put on board the Amphion, and
put down in the cable tiers under two decks, where we
found near a hundred of our countrymen, who had fallen
into their hands. We were very much crowded, and
having nothing but the cables to lay upon, our beds were
as hard and unpleasant as though they were made of
cord wood, and indeed we had not sufficient room for
each to stretch himself at the same time.

After about two weeks, (in which time we had a vio
lent storm,) we arrived at New- York, and were put on
board that wretched ship, the Jersey. The New- York
prison ships had been the terror of American tars for years.
The old Jersey had become notorious in consequence
of the unparalleled mortality on board of her. She was
said to have been rated and registered as a sixty-four
gun ship, but had mounted seventy-four guns. She was
moored in the East river, at or near a place called the
"Wallabout, on Long Island shore. Directly opposite,
there was a high bank of loose sand. It used to be cal
led the "Volley bank."

1 will here give my readers an extract from an oration
pronounced by Jonathan Russell, Esq. on the 4th of
July, 1800, in the Baptist meeting-house, in Providence,
Rhode-Island.

"But, it was not in the ardent conflict of the field on
ly that our countrymen fell. It was not the ordinary
chances of war, alone, which they had to encounter.
10

1 10 MEMOIRS OF

Happy indeed, thrice happy, were WARREN, MONTGOM
ERY, and MIISER. Happy those other gallant spirits,
who fell with glory in the heat of battle; distinguished
by their country, and covered with her applause. Eve
ry soul sensible to honor, envies rather than compassion
ates their fate. It was in the dungeons of our inhuman
invaders! it was in their loathsome and pestiferous pris
on-ships, that the wretchedness of our countrymen still
makes the heart bleed. It was there, that hunger and
thirst, and disease, and all the contumely which cold heart
ed cruelty could bestow, sharpened every pang of death.
Misery there wrung every fibre that could leel, before
she gave the blow of grace, which sent the sufferer to
eternity. It is said that poison was employed. No —
there was no such mercy there. There, nothing was em
ployed which could blunt the susceptibility to anguish, or
which, by hastening death, could rob its agonies of a sin
gle pang. On board one only of those prison-ships, above
eleven thousand of our brave countrymen are said to have
perished. She was called the Jersey, Her wreck still re
mains, and at low ebb, presents to the world its accursed
and blighted fragments. Twice in twenty-four hours
the winds sigh through it, and repeat the groans of our
expiring countrymen; and twice the ocean hides in its bo-
sorn those deadly and polluted ruins which all her waters
cannot purify. Every rain that descends washes from the
consecrated bank the bones* of those intrepid sufferers.
They lie naked on the shore, accusing the neglect of
their countrymen. How long shall gratitude, and even
piety deny them burial."

I entered the Jersey towards the last of November. I
had just entered the eighteenth year of my age, and had
now to commence a scene of suffering almost without a
parallel. The ship was extremely filthy, and abounded
with vermin. A large proportion of the prisoners had
been robbed of their clothing. The ship was considera
bly crowded; many of the men were very low spirited; our
provisions ordinary, and very scanty. They consisted of

*These bones were collected and interred by the Tammany
Society, of New- York, in 1808.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. Ill*

worm eaten ship bread, and salt beef. It was supposed
that this bread and beef had been condemned in the Brit
ish navy. The bread had been so eaten by weevils, that
one might easily crush it in the hand and blow it away.
The beef was exceedingly salt, and scarcely a particle of
fat could be seen upon it. The prisoners were divided
into messes, and each mess made a division among them
selves of the provisions which fell to them. The beef was
all put into a lar^e copper, perhaps five feet square and
four feet deep. The beef would fill the copper within a
few inches of the top; the copper was then filled up with
water, and the cover put on. Our fuel \vas green ches-
nut. The cook would commence his fire by seven or
eight in the morning, and frequently he would not get
his copper to boil until 12 o'clock, and sometimes when
it was stormy weather, it would be two or three o'clock.
I have known it to be the case that he could not get it to
boil in the course of the day. Those circumstances might
sometimes be owing to a want of judgment in the cooks,
who were freqently exchanged. Those misfortunes in
the cooks, would occasion many bitter complaints and
heavy curses from the half-starved, emaciated, and im
perious prisoners.

Under those circumstances, each mess would take its
meat, thus half cooked, and divide it among themselves,
as it was. A murmur is heard, probably in every mess,
and from almost every tongue. The cook is denounced,
or perhaps declines any further service: another volun
teers his services, and probably in a few days shares the
fate of his predecessor. There was a company of pris
oners who were called the working party: they used to
£o under a guard, to bring water, wood, provisions, &c.
Those persons, as well as those who had served a certain
time as cooks, were to be privileged by being first ex
changed. There were three or four other old ships ly
ing about the Jersey, which were used for hospitals, and
the working party attended on them also.

When I had been about four weeks on board, to my
astonishment, my uncle, James Weymouth, who was cap
tured with me at Charleston, S. C. was brought on board.
He also had been on a voyage to the West Indies, and

I

112 MEMOIRS OF

*

was captured on his return home. It was with emotions
of deep regret, accompanied with some small degree of
joy, that we met together on board this dismal ship. We
had not seen each other since we were captured together
in Charleston. I shall have occasion to speak hereafter
of this man, on the list of my best friends, viz. Powers,
Fox, Tibbits, and those other gentlemen before named,
who bestowed so much care on me in Mill Prison, and
on board the Lady's Adventure.

The British were at this time so strong at New-York,
their frigates and other armed vessels were so numerous
that they scoured our whole coast, and exceedingly an
noyed our commerce. Some time in the first of the win
ter, they took the Chesapeake frigate of about thirty guns,
(from Philadelphia, if I do not mistake) and think she
had as many as three hundred hands. About the time
her crew were brought on board, it began to be ex
ceedingly sickly among the prisoners. The hospital
ships began to be crowded. The Chesapeake's crew
died exceedingly fast, for a large proportion of them
were fresh hands, who had never » been at sea before;
they were out but ft few days before they were taken,
and the contrast between their modes of living, at
home, and on board the Jersey, was so great, that it was
thought from this circumstance they could not endure
hardship so well as those who had been more inured
to poor living. Our daily fare was this miserable salt
beef and dry wormy bread; except once a week, we had
a mess of what is called burgoo, or mush, (the Yankee
would call it hasty pudding,) made of oat meal and wa
ter. This oat meal was scarcely ever sweet : it was
generally so musty and bitter, that none but people suf
fering as we did. could eat it. Most of the prisoners,
however, had more or less money with them when cap
tured, and there were boats from the city along side ev
ery day when the weather would admit, with various
kinds of provisions to sell.

As long as one's money lasted, he could have better
fare than his most gracious Majesty allowed him. I be
lieve I had but five or six dollars when I was captured,

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 113

and with this small sum I endeavored to use the strictest
economy.

There were large quantities of provisions brought
from the city and sold to the prisoners, of the following
description. The livers and lights of sheep, cattle,
&c. were well hoiled, chopped fine, seasoned with pep
per and salt, and filled into the small intestines of those
animals; and a piece from seven to nine inches long,
sold to us for sixpence, York currency; that is, six cents
and a fourth. The most of my money went for those
meat puddings, and for bread.

Some time in January, 1783, I was taken sick, and
sent on board one of the hospital ships. This circum
stance occasioned a distressing scene, both to myself
and my uncle. My money was entirely gone; my un
cle had yet a few dollars: I think he gave me a dollar
or two, and we parted, with little expectation of ever
meeting again. The ship on which I entered was call
ed the Frederick, and was very much crowded; so that
two men were obliged to lie in one bunk. I was put
into a bunk with a young man whose name was W ills;
he belonged to Ipswich, in Massachusetts. The bunk
sat fore and aft directly under the ballast port, opposite
the main hatch way. Wills was a very pleasant young
man; of a serious turn, and was persuaded he should not
live. At this time my mind was very fluctuating, and
occasionally deranged. My bed-fellow was running
down very fast, but I was not at that time aware of it.
We were obliged occasionally to lay athwart each other,
for want of room: and I found the poor fellow very oblig
ing and accommodating. He appeared to have his rea
son until he was speechless, and finally died stretched
across me.

The death of a man in that place, and at that time,
excited but little notice; for a day did not pass with
out more or less deaths. I have seen seven dead men
drawn out and piled together on the lower hatchway,
who had died in one night on board the Frederick.

There were perhaps ten or twelve nurses belonging
to this ship, and I should say there were about one him-
10*

114 MEMOIRS OF

tired sick: the nurses lived in the steerage, and whatev
er property or clothing the deceased left fell into their
hands. If the deceased had only a good head of hair, it
was taken off by the nurses and sold. The depravity of
the human heart was probably as fully exhibited in
those nurses, as in any other class of men. Some if not
all of them, were prisoners; and I believe they had
some compensation from the British government for
their services. They could indulge in playing cards,
and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting for wa
ter, and some dying. t

There were more or less of them among the sick the
greater part of the day; but at night the hatches were
shut down and locked, and there was not the least atten
tion paid to the sick or dying, except what could be
done by the convalescent; who were so frequently cal
led upon, that in many cases they overdid themselves,
relapsed and died.

After Mr. Wills, my bed-fellow was dead, I called
to the nurses to take him away, as he lay partly across
me, and I could not relieve myself: but they gave me
very hard words, and let the dead man lay upon me half
an hour before they removed him; and it was a great
favor to me that they took away the blankets that was
under us. I had now two blankets left me, a great
coat, and a little straw within a sack, under me; but
even with these, I suffered extremely with the cold. I
have frequently toiled the greatest part of the night, in
rubbing my feet and legs to keep them from freezing;
and while I was employed with one, it seemed as if the
other must absolutely freeze. I must then draw up the
coldest and rub upon that; and thus alternately work
upon the one and the other, for hours together: I was
sometimes inclined to abandon them to their fate, but
after a while I would feel excited to bestow a little more
labor upon them. In consequence of those chills, I
have been obliged to wear a laced stocking upon my
left leg for nearly thirty years past. My bunk was di
rectly against the ballast port; and the port not being
caulketl, when there came a snow storm, the snow would

ANDREW SHfiRBURNE. 115

blow through the seams on my bed. In one instnnce, in
the morning, the snow was three or four inches deep up
on my bed; but in those cases there was one advantage
to me, when I could not otherwise procure water to
quench my thirst. The provision allowed the sick, was
a gill of wine, and twelve ounces of flour bread per day.
The wine was of an ordinary quality, and the bread made
of sour or musty flour, and sometimes poorly baked.

There was a small sheet-iron stove between decks,
but the fuel was green, and not plenty; and there were
some peevish and surly fellows generally about it. I
never got an opportunity to set by it; but I could gene-
ally get the favor of some one near it to lay a slice of
bread upon it, to warm or toast a little, to put into my
wine and water. We sometimes failed in getting our
wine for several days together: we had the promise of its
being made up to us, but this promise was seldom per
formed. With the money which my uncle gave me, I
sent ashore by one of the nurses, aud bought a tin pint
cup, a spoon, a few oranges, and a pound or two of sugar;
but I question whether I got the worth of my money. —
The cup, however, was of infinite service to me. We
were always careful to procure our cups full of water
before the hatches were shut down at night; but there
was frequently a difficulty attending this: the water was
brought on board in casks by the working party, and
when it was very cold it would freeze in the casks, and
it would be difficult to get it out.

The nurses had their hands full of employment gene
rally by day, and often depended upon the convalescent
to serve the sick with water. At the close of the day,
a man would sometimes have half a dozen calling upon
him at the same time, begging to be supplied. I was fre
quently under the necessity of pleading hard to get my
cup filled. I could not eat my bread, but gave it to those
who brought me water. I have given three days allow
ance to have one tin cup of water brought to me. I was
under the necessity of using the strictest economy with
my cup of water; restricting myself to drink such a num
ber of swallows at a time, and make them very small: my

1 16 MEMOIRS OF

thirst was so extreme that I would sometimes overrun
my number.

I became so habituated to number my swallows, that
for years afterwards I continued the habit, and even to
this day, I frequently involuntarily number my swallows.
There was one circumstance which I must by no means
forget. A company of the good citizens of New-York,
supplied all the sick with a pint of good Bohea Tea,
(well sweetened with molasses,) a day, and this was
constant. I believe this tea, under God's Providence,
saved my life, and the lives of hundreds of others. There
was no person of my acquaintance on board this'ship:
some of our crew had gone on board some other hospital
ship before I left the Jersey. In the first of my sickness
I was delirious a considerable part of the time. I am
unable to say what my sickness might be denominated;
at any rate, it was severe.

The physicians used to visit the ship once in several
days: their stay was short, nor did they administer much
medicine. Were I able to give a full description of our
wretched and filthy condition, I should almost question .
whether it would be credited. I have but little recol
lection about the state of my mind while on board this
ship. This much, however, I still recollect; that I was
fearful I should die, and that hell would be my portion
1 prayed for mercy, and promised amendment of life, if
God would spare me.

H ow justly do such wretches deserve the lowest hell,
who being so frequently and so powerfully admonished,
still persist in transgression.

It was God's good pleasure to raise me up once more,
so that I could just make out to walk, and I was again
returned to the Jersey prison ship.

My first object, of course, was to find my uncle. As
I went below, all things looked melancholy. I inquired
for, and found my uncle: but alas! he was sick — he was
very sick, and was called to go on board the same boat
that I had come in. We could not, therefore, be indulg
ed with each other's company for five minutes. This
was indeed an unspeakable treat to me: he seemed
very much discouraged, and with tears in his eyes,he bade

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 117

me adieu, with little expectation of ever seeing me again
in this world. I will leave my readers to judge of my
feelings. Stephen Nichols, a lad about my age, was the
only person I could find of our crew, and his circum
stances were much like my own. He had been sick,
and was at that time quite poorly, and low spirited. He
informed me of the fate of Mr. Daniel Davis, our gun
ner; his feet, and legs had been frozen; and finally, he
was no more.

Nichols and myself were quite attached to each other.
He was the son of Capt. Samuel Nichols, who was a
brother to Capt. Ichabod, the owner of the Scorpion.
We stalked about the decks together, lamenting our for
lorn condition. In a few days there came orders to re
move all the prisoners from the Jersey, on board of
transports, in order to cleanse the ship. We were all
removed, and directly there came on a heavy storm.
The ship on which I went on board, was exceedingly
crowded, so that there was not room for each man to lay
down under deck, and the passing and repassing by day,
had made the lower deck entirely wet. Our condition
was absolutely distressing. After a few days we were
all put on board the Jersey again. A large number had
taken violent colds, myself among the rest. The hos
pital ships were soon crowded; and even the Jersey her
self shortly became about as much of a hospital ship as
the others.

In a day or two after my return to the Jersey, I was
sent off again on board an hospital ship; (her name I
have forgotten,) and on descending the main hatchway,
the first person I noticed was my uncle Weymouth. We
were in some sense rejoiced in meeting each other once
more. We could indeed sympathize with each other in
some degree, but our situation seemed very precarious.
My uncle was very low spirited, but he was favored with
his reason; and it pleased God to continue my reason
while I remained on board this ship. In the space of a
week, my uncle began slowly to amend : he had a most
excellent head of hair, but it had become so entangled,
that he despaired of clearing it, and gave it to a nurse
for cutting it off.

118 MEMOIRS OF

While on board this ship, I had some trying scenes to
pass through. A man who lay next me had been a
nurse, but was taken sick, and had had his feet, and even
his legs, frozen. I had several times seen them dres
sed: at length, while they were dressing his feet, I
saw the toes and bottom of his feet cleave off from
the bone, and hang down by the heel.

On board this ship, I found John and Abraham
Fall, who were brothers. John was about twenty-three,
and had a wife; Abraham was about sixteen; they
were both of the Scorpion's crew, and were very sick.
They laid at some distance from me; I could not go to
see them, nor could they come to see me ; they laid
together.

One night Abraham made a great outcry against John,
requesting him to get off from him. Some of the men
who were near, swore hard at John, for thus laying on
his brother. John made no reply: when the morning
came, John was found dead, and Abraham but just alive;
I believe he died the same day. Finally, there were
but five out of thirteen of our crew who returned. The
remainder left their bones there. I believe that a much
larger proportion of some other crews died than of ours.
For more than twenty years past, I have not known any
person but myself, to be living, who sailed in the Scor
pion, except Mr. John Stone, of Limington, county of
York, Maine; and whether he is now living or not I can
not say. While I was confined with my uncle on board
the second hospital ship, we had intelligence of peace. —
This intelligence would have been joyful to us if we had
been able to leave this dreadful place.

I have the impression that a considerable number of
the prisoners were released from the Jersey some week*
before, but on what terms I cannot say. ft was exceed
ingly trying to our feelings to see our shipmates daily
leaving us, until our ship was almost deserted. We
were however convalescent, but we gained exceeding
slowly. There was a small schooner sent from Rhode-
Island, as a private cartel, for the especial purpose of
taking home some who belonged to that place, and the
commander of our hospital ship had the humanity to use

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 119

his influence with the master of the cartel to take us on
board, and to our unspeakable joy he consented. I
think there were but seven or eight left on board the
hospital ship when we left it, and I think the most of
them were convalescent. On our departure we had to
sign some kind of an instrument with a promise to report
ourselves at the Commissary's office in Rhode-Island.
We willingly bade adieu to the old Jersey and her hos
pital ships. For that time of the year we had a favorable
passage down the sound to Rhode-Island. In the morn
ing, before sunrise, we very gladly set our feet once
more upon the land of liberty. We walked up to the
Commissary's office and according to promise gave in our
names as prisoners from the Jersey.

I must here beg the indulgence of narrating a circum
stance which occurred on the morning of our landing at
Rhode-Island. However trifling it may appear to oth
ers, it has left an indelible impression on my mind. As
we were passing by a bake house, we saw a fine heap of
fresh coals just drawn from the oven. We being quite
chilled, went in to warm ourselves; we had not had the
indulgence of such a favor the whole winter. While
warming ourselves, the baker came running down stairs
in haste, but noticing two such odd figures, he halted a
while on the stairs. He approached us slowly, inquir
ed whether we were from the prison ship, we answered
in the affirmative. '' Really," said he " you look as if
you want some friend; are you not hungry ? come go with
me," He led us up stairs where his family resided. —
I found myself so weak, that it was with difficulty I
could ascend the stairs. I was obliged to reach forward
and support myself by putting my hands on the steps
like a child. Having entered the room we discovered a
beautiful young lady with a young child upon her lap.
The room was furnished in decent style, the floor car
peted, brass andirons, handsome furniture, and a nice
looking young woman as an attendant. " My dear,"
said the gentleman, " can't you give these men some
breakfast? they have come from the prison-ship." " O
yes," said the lady, with a very sympathetic and mod
est air. and immediately gave directions to the girl to

120 MEMOIRS OF

make ready. The contrast was great between our pres
ent situation and our former abode, and between our
apparel and theirs. " Come, sit down, sit down," said
the gentleman, " and make yourselves as comfortable
as you can; you must have had a hard time of it; you
have been sick, but you have now got among your
friends again." My conscience almost forbade my com
plying with his very friendly invitation. I therefore re
plied, " Sir, we are not fit to be where clean people are."
"• O never mind that," said the gentleman, " sit down,
sit down." "But to tell you the truth, Sir, we are lousy!"
" O well," said he, " if you should drop a few of them,
we shall not be so bad off as* you are; sit down, sit
down."

The very modest and friendly deportment of this charm
ing lady, deeply affected me, and I could not prevent
the tears flowing freely from my eyes; for instead of
shewing a haughty, disdainful temper, which some would
on a husband's introducing a couple of dirty, lousy fel
lows, her deportment was the most amiable ; and indeed
if I had not seen the tears in her eye,s I do not know
that I should have shed any myseif.

I scarcely know of any one circumstance of my life
that has more frequently occurred to my mind than this.
I have often, very often, said within, " a thousand bless
ings onthee rest."

That babe, if living, must now be more than forty-four
years old. I very much regret that I do not know the
name; I have never been on Rhode-Island since, but I
believe if I were in that street again, I could point out
the house. Our breakfast consisted of chocolate, ham,
eggs, and warm bread directly from the oven. It was a
consolation, that we had no other company at the table,
for if there had been, it must have been offensive to
them and mortifying to us.

For months we had not had one comfortable meal; our
appetites were sufficiently keen, and we were now in
danger of eating too much.

My uncle supposing that I had eaten as much as was
prudent for me to eat at that time, gave me a jog as a
hint for me to forbear. I perfectly understood him, but

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 121

as he continued eatmg^ himself, I had the politeness to
bear him company; and when he left off, I quit also.
We could but say to our host and hostess, " we are quite
obliged to you;" without in the least doubting but that
we were as welcome as we were thankful.

Our next object was to get up to Providence. We
were moneyless, but the master of the packet boat
agreed to take our hammocks, which we had packed up
and brought from the hospital-ship with us. It was
nearly night when we arrived at Providence. We had
each of us a dirty blanket, on which we depended for
our bedding, as we should go through the country, for
'we did not indulge the thought of sleeping in a bed, in
our condition. We had a few articles of clothing and
having rolled up our blankets for packs, and strung
them to our backs, we stepped on shore. We had now
about a hundred miles to travel before we could get
home. We stalked up the street, in Providence, que
rying where we should find a lodging. We could not
but exult in the thought that we had once more set our
feet upon the land of liberty, beyond the reach of British
oppression.

Wre had not walked twenty rods from the wharf, when
passing a druggist's shop, the gentleman standing in the
door hailed us. " Where are you from, friends, from
iS'ew-York?" " Yes, Sir." " Don't you want some re
freshment? stop in at that gate and go into the house."
We went into the kitchen, and the gentleman met us
with a bottle and a glass in his hand, gave us a cordial,
and ordered some victuals on the table, and requested us
to eat. Having refreshed ourselves, we thanked our
benefactor, and went on our journey.

We had gone but a few rods, when a gentleman met
my uncle, who was a few rods forward of me, and view
ed him very closely; and after passing him looked round
upon him; he then cast his eye upon me and looked
steadily until he passed me and looked back upon
me also. He having passed me several rods, he turned
quickly and followed me, and put a dollar into my hand,
saying, "You are from New- York, I suppose — here, di
vide this between you." He turned again in haste and
11

122 MEMOIRS OP

left me; he would hardly hear me say, u I thank you."
I thought lie seemed half inclined to give something to
my uncle when he met him, as he had his hands in his
small clothes' pockets, and he seemed much inclined to
bestow something on me when he passed me.

I verily thought that there was a contest in his bosom
between charity and covetousness, and at length charity
prevailed. This I also considered as an interposition of
Divine Providence.

We walked perhaps half a mile, the sun was near set
ting, we thought it time to try for a lodging: we calcu
lated only to lie upon the floor, by the h're. I called at
a door and knocked: a young woman came to the door,
looking quite astonished. I asked her whether we
could be permitted to lay by their fire that night ? She
gave me no answer, but exclaimed, "Mother, I really
believe these men came from the same place where
Jack Robinson did." The old lady came rushing into
the entry, followed by one or two more well grown girls,
and began rapidly to question us. Alter answering a
few of her questions, I began to urge some of my own;
and in the first place was inquisitive to know where this
Jack Robinson lived; for as soon as the girl mentioned
his name, I recollected that there was a lad of that name
(if I am not mistaken in the name) came down in the
cartel. Though we had no acquaintance with him, I
had the impre«sion that if we could find him, we should
be sure of a good harbor for that night. They pointed
us to the house, it was but a few rods distant. We al
most broke away from the good woman and her girls,
and called at old Mr. Robinson's shop door. He was
a hatter. The good man came to the door himself, and
as soon as we enquired if Jack Robinson lived there,
the old gentleman exclaimed, " God bless you ! why
here is some more of them — why he is my dear son;
come in, come in. Why Jack has just got home; we
thought he was dead; we heard he was dead; we never
expected to see him again. Come in, you dear souls,
come in." He was a little old gentleman, and wore a
small black wig; the tears ran freely down his cheek.
His heart and his house were open to receive us; his
wife and daughters were equally friendly. Jack was as

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 123

lively as a bird, for he had not been sick. By this time
the sun was down, and we were sufficiently tired to He
down.

It was now a question how and where we should
lodge. The old man was for having us get into bed.
We refused, and requested that the carpet should be ta
ken away, and that we might lie down before the fire
with our blankets. " O no," said Mr. R. " you must
go to bed." "Why, dear Sir, we are lousy." "O
well, so was Jack; we have all his clothes out in the
garden; I don't know that he will ever wear them
again." " Just let us lie on the floor, by your fire, and
it will be a more comfortable lodging than we have had
since last fall." (It was now the last of March.) The
old gentleman consented, but he would not agree that
the carpet should be removed. In the morning after
breakfast we took our leave of the good man and his
happy family.

The next day I believe we did not get on more than
three or four miles, and one day we got on but about one
mile. The weather was cold and we very sensibly felt
the consequences of eating too freely. I recollect that
we called at Dr. Man's tavern, and his sons gave us
some money.

Within about ten miles of Providence, we called at a
large red house, on the left hand side of the road. We
wished to know whether we could stay over night, and
found that we could, but that we must expect to pay for
our entertainment. It just now occurs to rny mind,
that we had been inquiring where we could get some
horses to take us along, for we made such slow pro
gress that we were quite discouraged. We found that
we could get horses at this place. The old gentleman
was a wealthy farmer, he had two sons who were bach
elors; they were not very bright men, but I think they
were exceedingly fond of money. I believe there were
one or two maiden ladies in the family, and I perfectly
recollect there was a family of negroes.

We were plain enough to tell them our situation;
we only wished to He by their kitchen fire. The land
lady furnished us with a frugal supper. She dealt out

124 MEMOIRS OF

to us our portion much more sparingly than did the ba->
ker, the apothecary or the hatter. In the course of the
evening we contracted with the old man and his son to
take us to a village, whether Walpole, AttJeborongh, or
Dedham, I cannot now say, but I think that the distance
was about twelve miles.

I had with me a new duck frock,, which was worth a
dollar or more; this, with the money which the young
men at Dr. Alan's gave us, would pay our fare at this
place, and our horse bill, &,c.

After the family had all retired except the negroes, the
old black woman began in a whisper to be very inquisi
tive to know whether the negroes were to have their
liberty. She had some such intimations arid hoped that
that would be the case.

She had a family of children, some of them pretty well
grown; she told how faithfully she had served her " mas-
ser and missey, and how deblish covetous they were.
They would starve de poor negro; that old masser and
young massers had money enough and were afraid to
layout a copper; that de poor negro had to steal de bit-
ties, or else dey would starve." The old woman had
granted herself the liberty to procure and lay aside
some provisions for herself and children's supper. .Af
ter the family were asleep, she got some supper and
made us welcome to take some with her, and we were
very willing to accept her oifer.

In the morning we mounted our horses and pursued
our journey. I rode a small gentle beast, but I could
not bear that it should go out of a walk. An old bach
elor went on with us to take the horses back. We went
quite slowly, and the old fellow was anxious to hurry us
a little, in order that he might return in season. We
were obliged frequently to dismount.

In the course of the day he gave my horse a clap and
started it on a trot. It seemed as if it would take my
life away; in a moment I doubled down upon the sad
dle, caught hold of the reins under the neck and check
ed the horse as soon as possible.

As soon as I recovered my breath, I assailed the old
fellow with such a volley of hard words in seaman's dia-

ANDREW SIIERBURNE. 125

lect, that he turned pale. He no more attempted to
drive my horse. When we arrived at the village it was
late in the afternoon. There was a town meeting there
that day, and of course there were many there who did
not live" on the great road, and were not accustomed to
see such objects pass their doors. I saw none that ap
peared to be intoxicated, but a number, and indeed most
of them appeared to be a little merry, nor would it be
much wondered at, for this I presume was the first town-
meeting they had had since the joyful news of peace.
Here were many old men, who for the last seven years
had assembled in town-meetings, when dark clouds
were brooding over the nation.

They formed a circle round us and were inquisitive to
know how we had fared, &c. We answered them while
the bov-4 was going round, but not at our expense, for
we were very cautious about drinking, and if we had
been more so about eating, it would doubtless have been
in our favor. At length an old patriot made a motion
that a little contribution should be made to assist us on
our way home. A handful of silver change to the amount
of two or three dollars was collected,1 and the londlord
on his part, would give us our supper and lodging in his
bar-room, &c.

I well recollect one circumstance that occurred before
we got to Boston. I think that it was in Roxbury, we
called at an elegant house to warm and rest ourselves a
little; the good lady came into the kitchen richly dressed:
(she had company from Boston to dine with her that day)
"Bless me!" said she, "why where did these poor crea
tures come from? why you must be in a suffering condi
tion; don't you want something to take? do get some
wine for them, get me some eggs, let them take an egg
with a little wine, it will be comforting to their stomachs.
They must have some victuals to eat; girls, do set the
table.'7 My uncle had had a violent pain in one of his
eyes, and lost the sight of it for a while. This good wo
man pitied him very much on that account; prescribed for
him, and had it bound up. Her table was bountifully
furnished with roast turkey, fyc.

We had many good wishes bestowed on us by this
11*

126 MEMOIRS OF

friendly lady; and went on our journey. Whe» we got
to Boston we called on Mr. Drown and received every
attention wo could wish. I should say that he was not
in affluent circumstances, he had suffered in his estate
by the British while they held Boston. He was between
seventy and eighty years of age, and a high whig. The
old gentleman said he was born fifty years too soon to see
the glory of America. He did not suffer us to depart
moneyless. I believe he called upon some of his friends
to assist, and furnished money sufficient to bear our ex
penses home, and we had yet most of the mone)' that was
given us at the town-meeting.

We hired horses to take us on by short stages, and
when we got to Hampton falls, I had to- part with my un
cle. I had then about fifteen miles to journey, and he
about twenty, to take him to Epping. My brother Sam
uel, (who was twenty months younger than myself) hear
ing that I was on the road, met me some miles from
home and I was supplied with a horse, but I could not
bear that a horse should go out of a walk.

Thus it pleased God once more to return me to an af
flicted mother. She wept most bitterly to see her poor
emaciated son. She was yet a mourner for Thomas,
her first born. My dear sisters were all affection.

My brother Samuel took me into another room to di
vest me of my filthy garments, wash and dress me. He
having taken off my clothes and seen my bones project
ing here and there, he was so astonished that his strength
left him. He sat down on the point of fainting, and
could render me no further service. I was able to wash
myself and put on my clothes. Having indulged my
friends with a little conversation, I must retire to bed,
and I believe I did not set up again an hour at a time for
twenty days. The next day Dr. Ammi R. Cutter was
sent for, who paid every attention to- me in his power.

I have before mentioned this philanthropist. It is sur
prising how I could have performed such a journey un
der such circumstances; not having strength to raise my
self over a door step, without a cane or supporting my
self in some other way; constantly afflicted with a severe
diarrhoea; and soon as relieved from such toil, cleansed

ANDREW SHERBURXE. 127

and put into a good bed, that I should so relapse. I was
also extremely peevish. As soon as Mrs. Fall, (whose
sons, John and Abraham, died on board the hospital
ships,) heard of my arrival, she called on Miss Jane
Muchamore, (who afterwards became my wife,) to ac
company her, and called to see me. I was very unwell.
She enquired very particularly about them; and I told
her every particular which prudence allowed. The poor
woman was in an agony. She almost fainted. She was
a widow; I think that her husband died about the time
that my lather did. My mother and all present sympa
thized with her; she seemed almost bereft of her reason.
She queried whether it could -be possible they were both
dead; and asked me many questions over and over again;
at length I made some petulant reply and this very much
distressed me; I could hardly forgive myself in a long
time. The poor woman made several attempts to with
draw, but it seemed as if she could not leave me. As
the spring advanced, I began to amend, but very slowly.

CHAPTER VI.

Sails in the Sloop Randolph for tlic West- Indies — Short
of provisions — Arrives at Portsmouth — Trip to Do
ver — Sails in the ship Lydia, Cftpt. R. S. Tiblits.,
who was his 1vtor in Mill Prison — Sails to Wilming
ton, N. C. — Escape from an Algerine galley — Lisbon
— St. Ubcs — Gales of wind — Short allowance — Try
ing time, on the coast — Arrives at Portsmouth.

THE war being now ended, there were more seamen
than the merchants had occasion to employ ; and of course
seamen's wages were very low. For a while I turned
my attention to fishing; my strength was not sufficiently
restored to attempt to take hold on farming; and indeed
there were but few farmers able to hire.

I had proposed to doctor Cutter, to do some work for

128 MEMOIRS OF

him, as I had no other way of paying his bill. I went to
work for the doctor; he had some gardening and some
farming to do. I continued seven or eight months in his
service; he paid me my wages, arid would never take
any thing for doctoring rne.

In the spring of 1785 I went a voyage to the West-In
dies, on board the sloop Randolph, commanded by Capt.
Samuel Gardiner; the vessel was owned by his brother,
William Gardiner, Esq. We had a very long passage
of more than sixty days. We discharged our cargo at
Trinidad. On our return we touched at Barbadoes and
at St. Eustatia, to purchase provisions, for our passage out
was so much longer than usual, that we had exhausted
our provisions. They being very high, the Captain put to
sea from St. Eustatia with a scanty supply, and before we
got in we came to very short allowance.

In coming on the coast in November, we had several
heavy storms, and being rather weak handed, we were
much exposed, and in several instances I narrowly escap
ed being hove overboard. This sloop was about one
hundred tons and was very unhandy to work; there were
but four hands before the mast. We arrived at Ports
mouth some time in November, having been more than
two weeks upon very short allowance.

I purposed not to go to sea again that winter, but to
allow myself some little pastime in visiting my friends.
Soon after my return, I made a visit to Newington, (which
adjoined Portsmouth) to spend a little time with my un
cle Furber, who married my father's sister. He was an
independent farmer, a very humorous man, was pleased
with my company, and was highly entertained in hearing
me tell over my adventures, &c. His only son Jethro,
was about my age, his eldest daughter Phebe, had re
cently married a Mr. Woodman Coleman, of Dover.
Mary was about to accompany me on a visit to Mr. Cole-
man's and invited Mrs. Hannah Nutter to accompany us.
We walked to Fox point, which is a half a mile above
the celebrated Piscataqua bridge, (this bridge, however,.
was not built until some years after) with a design to
procure a canoe: I obtained one about twelve feet long
and we set off. The river being more than a half a mile

ANDREW SHERBURXE.I 129

O

across at the place just below where
forms a junction with Durham river. We* had got one
third of the way over, when I discovered a heavy snow
squall coming down the Durham river, and a small
schooner coming down in it, scudding under the head of
her foresail. I saw but little chance for us; I did not
apprise the girls of our danger, but I paddled with all
my strength so as to get in the wake or range of Goat
Island, which lay near the middle of the river, over
which, the aforesaid bridge now lies. We were a quar
ter of a mile above this island when the squall struck us.
I was careful to put away in season, and was very glad
to find that by my exertions, I had brought the island
dead to leeward.

After I had put away for the Island, I never lifted
my paddle out of the water; but with the utmost caution
steered my little ship until she had struck. We had
shipped considerable water, and had the distance been
greater, we must have sunk. The weather was pleasant
when we set off from the shore, nor was there any ap
pearance of a squall.

The ground was now covered with snow, and we were
all wet and cold: but there happened to be one small
house upon the island, and we were kindly received,
and having warmed ourselves, the weather became
pleasant, we pursued our voyage and had a pleasant
time. We very narrowly escaped with our lives; those
who saw us from the shore had no hope of us, and the
schooner that passed us, could have alforded us no re
lief. I am filled with astonishment, when 1 consider
how many dangers the Lord has brought me through.

I spent a considerable part of this winter with my coue-
in, Jethro Furber, in company with Mr. John Coleman,
studying navigation, and the art of surveying.

In the spring, I shipped on board the ship Lydia, com
manded by my old friend, Capt. R. S. Tibbits, bound to
North- Carolina, then to Lisbon. Mr. G. Horn was first
mate, and Mr. John Brear second mate. We went to
Wilmington, N. C. and took on board a cargo of planks,
staves, pitch, tar and turpentine. In Wilmington, I was
quite unwell for a time, but on going to &ea, I recovered.

130 MEMOIRS OF

Nothing uncommon occurred, until we made the land
on the coast of Portugal. We stood along the coast un
der easy sail; it being towards night, we did not wish to
approach very near the land. The weather was very
pleasant and the wind light.

The Algerines at this time were committing depreda
tions on our commerce. It was but little before this,
that Capt. O'Brien had been taken, who, with his crew,
were in slavery among them a number of years. We
were in some fear of them, and kept a bright look out.
I had gone below at twelve o'clock and turned in, but
was not yet asleep. I thought I heard the distant sound
of a human voice; the Captain was on deck, and busy
iu talking. I heard the sound again, and began to feel
alarmed, and was turning out, but discovered that they
heard the sound on deck, and were listening, and looking
out. The sound neared us fast; all hands were imme
diately on deck; there was now no question but the
sound was from an Algerine galley, which was by this
time within fifty yards of us. She nailed in several dif
ferent languages, and Capt. Tibbits having the helm,
(there being a plenty of work for every one else,) gave
them indirect answers. Never were people more alarm
ed than we were now. Never did a crew make sail
quicker: we set our topgallant-sails, hauled our wind a
little, and got out our studding-sails, <^*c. and by this time
our pursuer was within twenty yards of us. She feigned
herself in distress, and designed thereby to decoy us.
She had laid under the land, without having any sail set,
and by that means could not be discovered by us before
night; while at the same time she could very plainly dis
cover us, and having ascertained how we were standing,
shaped her course to run athwart our fore foot, (as the
sailor would say;) but she being to leeward, was obliged
to depend upon her oars. She had designed, no doubt,
to have boarded us, but when she saw that we were
likely to shoot by her, endeavored to decoy us.

She did not show a rag of sail until she had complete
ly gained our wake, and then began a chase with a full
press of sail. But our ship being an excellent sailer,
we soon began to leave her. And thus, by the mercy of

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 131

God, we escaped capture and slavery. She chased us
but a very little while, and finding she was no match for
us in sailing, gave up the chase, took in her sails, and we
soon lost sight of her. The next day we got into Lis
bon, and reported the circumstances of this chase. —
There immediately went out a government brig in pur
suit of her, but I did not not understand that she ever
found her.

We had now got to Lisbon, the capital of a kingdom,
where there are many interesting things to be seen. Had
I the ingenuity of Carter, and possessed his powers of
description, I could write a few pleasant pages in a des
cription of Lisbon: but this T must leave to abler hands,
and barely notice a few particulars, which to myself were
somewhat interesting. I had heard of the destruction
in Lisbon by earthquakes. Our ship lay near a large
castle, surrounded by water. It was said to have been
sunken; and in our boat we frequently passed over those
places which were said to have been sunken. With
peculiar solemnity, I noticed some places on shore, where
there were evidently the tokens of that calamity.

The market square excited my curiosity. It was as
tonishing to see the vast quantity of fruit: hundreds of
wagon loads were piled here and there: grapes of differ
ent kinds, were abundant; as well as figs, oranges and
lemons. I have seen companies of hundreds of females
at once, riding on jacks, with large hampers slung on
each side, filled with fruit, going to the market. It was
equally curious to walk in the fish market, and sec the
great variety and abundance of fish. The fishermen, I
believe, generally had their families in their boats; and
I question whether they had any ether habitation. In
their boats, they had a small tub, with some gravel in it;
and a small iron grate, in which they placed their coal
for fire, and cooked their fish in earthen pots. When
they came from selling their fish in the market, they
would bring large water melons under their arms. These
melons they used for bread, and ate them with their
stewed fish. I perceived that they also made free use
of raw onions; but I did not see them have any bread,
or any other vegetable at their meals. Many of these

J32 MEMOIRS OF

onions were very large: some of them as large in cir
cumference as a common saucer, and not more than an
inch and a half thick. They were very mild, inucli more
so than any I ever ate in America.

I was very much surprised, when, with some of my
shipmates, I entered a street which was called Rag Fair.
The shops were altogether clothing shops, and occupied
by Jews. The moment one enters this street, his atten
tion is arrested by the vociferations of the seed of Israel,
standing in their shop doors on either side of the street,
beckoning to you, See. with almost all kinds of gestures;
endeavoring to win your attention, and get you into their
shops. As you approach the door of one, you are sur
rounded by half a dozen of his neighbors, using their
endeavors to get you into their shops. He who succeeds,
is exceedingly accommodating. You are shown articles
in abundance, and this and the other is shown you, and
urged upon you, and cheapened again and again, and it
is almost impossible to get away without buying some
thing: and on your leaving that shop, you are met at the
door by several others, who use all their endeavors, pul
ling you by the clothes, to get you into their shops; and
you feel happy to escape their importunities, and get in
to the street again. We several times passed this street,
for no other purpose than co see those antic fellows dis
play their talents.

One evening, about sunset, as I was going on board
the ship, I saw perhaps fifty men carrying a large cable
upon their shoulders; and when a certain bell began to
ring, a considerable number of the men left their burden
to others, and for the space of a minute attended to their
devotions, crossing themselves, telling their beads, &c.
I could but notice how patiently the others stood under
their burden, until the worshippers returned.

The streets in general were very narrow, but there
was here and there a kind of open square, and at one of
the largest in the city, at a certain corner, the Blessed
Virgin, in wax, as large as life, was placed about ten
feet from the ground, inclosed in glass, with the infant
Savior in her arms.

All the Portuguese, whether gentle or simple, when

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 133

they passed by on the side where the image was, were
careful to take off their hats. I carefully avoided pass
ing near her. At one time I observed a funeral proces
sion behind me, and having the curiosity to examine it,
I stepped into a shoemaker's shop; but before I was a-
warc, there was a fellow fumbling about my head, with
a long pole; he nearly uncapt me, and would have suc
ceeded had I not put my hand to my head and held it on,
This circumstance only caused him to be more resolute;
and he gave me some pretty hard thumps on my head.
The man of the shop gave me the hint to take off my hat,
which I immediately did, and the fellow desisted thump
ing my head. I ascertained that it gave them great of
fence if one had his head covered in presence of their sa
cred images and pictures which preceded a funeral pro
cession. I shall narrate one circumstance more and
finish with Lisbon. I being on the square near the mar
ket, noticed a collection of people. I had the curiosity to
see what it meant. I drew near and observed a dead
corpse lying on a bier, with a bald headed friar standing
at the head, in a very grave and apparently solemn tone,
repeating over and over again a long sentence in an un
known tongue.

There was a large earthqn basin on the stomach of the
corpse, which was a female. Her bosom was bare, and
just above the left breast there had been a very deep
wound inflicted with a large knife. It was more than
two inches in length and near the same in width. It was
a mortal thrust. The priest and Portuguese who stood
round about, looked sad. I saw that one and another
would drop a little change into the basin, which contain
ed probably two or three dollars. The priest appeared
to me to be soliciting the people to give.

These affairs wanted some explanation, and it was
natural that we should inquire what all this meant. We
were informed that it was the husband of this woman
who had committed this horrid act; that he suspected his
wife's chastity; and it seems he had some ca\'se. As
she was walking in the evening with another man, he
followed them undiscovered, and as he passed by on the
left hand of his wife, with a large knife." which was con-
12

134 MEMOIRS OF

cealed in the sleeve of his coat, he gave her the deadly
thrust. It was said the murderer fled to the church, arid
put his ringer into the key hole, which act protected him.
AVhether the money was to pay her funeral charges, or
to pay the priest for getting her soul out of purgatory, or
for any other purpose, 1 shall not undertake to say.

We took in a part of our cargo at Lisbon, and had to
go to St. Ubes for the remainder, and were with a num
ber of other vessels convoyed off' the coast by a Portu
guese frigate. On our passage to America, we had sev
eral heavy gales of wind, and our ship being very heav
ily laden with salt, laboured exceedingly. As we
approached the coast, late in November, we had heavy
winds against us, and were several times driven back,
split our sails, got very short of provisions and fuel, ship
ped many heavy seas, our quarter boards were stove,
our caboose was carried overboard, and our long boat
several times knocked out of her chocks.

I had on board two boxes of chocolate, which I had
carried for an adventure; but the duties were so high in
Lisbon, that I could not sell it to any advantage. I found
a market for it on our passage home, and it seemed to be
the means of saving both the ship and our lives, for we
were reduced to less than a quarter allowance of provis
ion, and we used to have a pint of chocolate twice a day.
Our ship was so heavy laden that in bad weather we had
to pump, to keep her free. At one time in a heavy gale,
she leaked so much, we almost despaired of ever freeing
her, and were very fearful that in a few hours we should
all make our graves in the ocean; but God was gracious
ly pleased to preserve us, and bring us once more into
our much desired haven.

Shortly after our arrival, my uncle James Weymouth
made us a visit at Portsmouth. He had not been at sea
since our imprisonment on board the Jersey. He had
bought a lot of good new land in the plantation of Fran-
cisborough, (now the town of Cornish.) He was an un
commonly stout man; he had not been on board the Jer
sey so long as myself, by nearly two months, nor was his
constitution materially injured.

He had made rapid progress in clearing his farm, and

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 135

was one of the richest settlers in the place. He insisted
much on my making him a visit and spending the winter
with him. He thought my education quite sufficient to
keep a country school, he did not doubt but that he
could get one for me. I was rather reluctant in comply
ing with his request; but as he insisted that I must make
a visit at least, I promised I would come and see him in
the course of four or five weeks, but would not promise
any further. Heretofore I had been tolerably temperate
lor a sailor of those times. There had been few instan
ces in which I had been disguised with ardent spirits.
There were several young men in Portsmouth with whom
I was particularly intimate; and we had got into a habit
of drinking quite too much; although we did not get drunk.
This circumstance alarmed me, for I found it to be a
growing evil, and resolved on a reformation, but yet con
tinued the practice with the determination that this should
be the last time. But while continuing to associate with
those comrades, it was very difficult to forbear. It is too
often the case among sailors, that when one proposes
a reformation, he is ridiculed and combatted by his ship
mates, and they use greater exertions to increase his cor
ruptions than they would have done had he made no pro
posal for a reformation.

It seemed to be a gracious providence in my favor,
that at this time, I should leave Portsmouth for the coun
try. Cornish lies in the state of Maine, (then district of
Maine) on the west side of Saco river, in the county of
York, about thirty miles from the sea, and fifty-five miles
from Portsmouth.

136 MEMOIRS OP

CHAPTER VII.

Goes into the country by the solicitations of his Uncle —
Embraces Universalism — Reproved for using prof ariK
language — Reformation in Cornish — Religious im
pressions — Reads the New Testament — The preach-
in§ °f Duct- Hezckiah Smith — Becomes more anx
ious — Mr. Thomas Lord, an old shipmate — Goes
to New-York to settle his naval account — Visits
Limerick — Entertains a hope in Christ.

I set out for Cornish probably after the middle of Jan
uary, 171)6. I was resolved to drink no ardent spirits,
1'or I was not a little troubled that I had made so free
with it. I had heretofore stood high in the estimation
of my acquaintance, and had been much applauded for
the attention I had paid to my mother and her family,
and was not a little pleased at having a good name.

I was not so much perplexed about the concerns of
my soul as I had been when in the storms at sea, in sick
ness, &c. for I had endeavored to persuade mysell that
all men would eventually be saved; and ventured to de
clare myself an Universalist; yet I had never attempted
to examine into that system, nor indeed had I attempted
to investigate any other. From my own folly and igno
rance, I now think I can understand the want of caution
in others, who in so many instances, like myself, have
become sticklers for this or the other system, which they
have never seriously, carefully and prayerfully investi
gated. I arrived at my uncle's on the morning of the
third day after I left Portsmouth. He was very glad
that he had succeeded in getting me into the country, and
was determined to keep me there if he could, although
he had not yet disclosed to me his purpose. I found
him keeping bachelor's hall, in a decent log cabin;
he cooked for himself, but got his washing done by some
of his neighbors. At cooking I was probably his supe
rior, having had much more experience in that business
while I was a waiter to officers.

I had but a small school, principally of young men.

ANDREW SHERBURNEV 137

nnd the principal branch which I taught was arithmetic,
in which I was tolerably well versed. My uncle had a
large team of oxen, a cow or two, and a number of young
cattle. I had made my calculation to return to Ports
mouth in the spring, and go to sea again. My uncle re
monstrated against the measure; seamen's wages were
low at that time. Probably our treaties of commerce
were not sufficiently digested, to satisfy the merchant as
to the measures which he should pursue. Our country
was just emerging from the state of confusion which was
occasioned by the war. The present constitution was
not then adopted, and our principal capitalists were cau
tious about risking their property in navigation.

Those merchants who were concerned in navigation,,
rarely made suitable provision for their vessels. The
two last voyages I had been, we suffered extremely for
provisions. The vessels and our lives were much in
danger, in consequence of those vessels not being well
found. But it is well known that the yankees will run
great risks, and that common seamen are generally too
inconsiderate, and there were more of this class at that
day than the merchants could employ. These subjects,
however, were not taken into view by me at that time.
Tt seemed to me that I must plod along in the way to
which I was most habituated.

My uncle observed to me that no man was more to be
pitied or more despicable than an old worn-out sailor.
He argued that my constitution was much impaired al
ready, that I could not stand it long to follow the sea,
and insisted that I should continue with him. He knew
that I could not do half of a land-man's labor, but he
offered to give me full wages, and even as much as I
could get at sea. Eventually I concluded to continue
with him that season, but I did not relinquish the idea
of going to sea again.

In the month of March, Mr. Simon Johnson, whose
wife was my uncle Weyrnouth's sister, moved from Ep-
ping, in New-Hampshire, into my uncle's house with
us, and in April, rny brother Samuel came from Ports
mouth; and hired with my uncle Weymouth. My bro
ther was twenty months younger than myself, and it was

138 MEMOIRS OF

not a little mortifying to me, that he and every other
man should so much out do mo in work.

I had not suspected myself of being behind the stout
est of sailors. I had considerable strength, but I did
not know how to employ it in this new business, and
although the sailor is called to great exertions, those
exertions are generally but for short spells. My uncle
was aware of my infirmities, and frequently cautioned
me not to try so hard to do as others did; and would set
me about the easiest work. I had not yet relinquished
swearing, but -I found very few to join me in this pre
sumptuous practice.

One of my scholars, a young man about my age, was
considerably habituated to it. I was one day in com
pany with some old men, and inadvertantly made use of
some profane expressions. One asked me what autho
rity I had for using such expressions. I was speechless,
and exceedingly mortified; and perceiving that it hurt
their feelings, I was determined to forsake the pernic
ious practice. From that day I abandoned that vice
wilhout difficulty, but rather from a principle of polite
ness, than from a principle of piety.

Peter, a servant of Jesus Christ, required of his Chris
tian brethren, that they should always be ready to give
to any one who should ask them a reason of the hope
that was within them, with meekness and fear.

I have already, in a number of instances, spoken of
some of the impressions and exercises of my mind, on
the subject of religion, and the events of Divine Provi
dence, dependance on God, and the responsibility of
his rational creatures. I shall now, as briefly as ia
practicable, narrate some of the most peculiar interpo
sitions of Divine Providence, which excited in me an
anxious concern for the salvation of my soul.

In the spring of the year after I went to Cornish, I
heard my uncle say u there was an awakening among
the old professors, and that Mr. J. C — 's mind was in
trouble about preaching." This language was not fa
miliar to me, and I hesitated for a moment before I
could comprehend him. I do not know that I had ever
heard the term " professors" before, applied to a relig-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 139

ious character: nor did I know that there had ever been
a person whose mind had been in trouble about preaching",
I felt rather disposed to trifle with the expressions; but
they nevertheless, occasioned me many reflections. I
observed that the heads of families in general were se
date, but did not know that there was a professor of re
ligion among them, nor did I hear any swearing.

I soon ascertained that they had meetings for prayer,
&c. but their meetings ?»t first were not public. They
however soon became public, and preachers began to
come among them.

I was perfectly astonished when I first saw their
preachers. They were dressed in coarse country cloth,
nor did there appear any distinction between them and
the men in general.

I had never before, except once at Chichester, heard
any preaching, except from the pulpit, nor had I ever
seen a preacher without a black coat, cocked hat, and a
band; and frequently had not heard a sermon in several
years; and probably paid very little attention to what I
did hear. 1 was told that those people were Baptists,
but I had no idea of what a Baptist was, and was desir
ous to know wherein they differed from others. The
most I could ascertain was that they denied infant bap
tism, or sprinkling to be a gospel ordinance.

This rather disquieted me, for I had been sprinkled
in my infancy, and at times it afforded a kind of conso
lation to me. Not long after this I had some conversa
tion with an old gentleman who was a Baptist, and in
quired of him why it was that they should disapprove of
infant baptism? He told me that the gospel did not re
quire it. He said, moreover, that baptism was a gos
pel ordinance, but that immersion or dipping, was the
mode. The man seemed candid, but I did not feel so
myself. I felt rather indignant, and viewed the Bap
tists as a deceived and conceited people. I was by no
means equal in talking upon the scriptures with this old
gentleman, and therefore determined within myself that
I would carefully read the New Testament through, net
in the least doubting, but that I should find sufficient
proof in my favor; for I had never before this, had tho

140 MEMOIRS OF

least intimation that there was any dispute about bap
tism. From this time I paid particular attention to the
New Testament. I began it, and read with unusual at
tention, with a design to prove infant baptism from the
scriptures.

It was my intention to notice with great care those
passages that spoke of infant baptism; and in the course
of my reading I paid particular attention to those texts
which are generally urged in support of infant sprinkling,
but I was very desirous to find something positive on the
subject, and having read the Testament through, and
taken a retrospective view of what I had read, I could
not satisfy my conscience that there was a single text in
its favor. I could not believe that infants were the sub
jects, or that anything short of immersion was the ac
tion or mode.

By the time I had read the New Testament through,
and even before, my mind was more particularly excited
about the everlasting welfare of my soul, than it had ev
er before been, except when I viewed myself in immi
nent danger.

I continued to read the scriptures with peculiar atten
tion; and instead of attending to the first rudiments of
the gospel of Jesus Christ, I undertook to define the
higher points or branches of doctrines. I found myself
involved in great perplexity.

The meetings became more and more frequent, and
individuals became anxiously concerned about their sal
vation, and were shortly set at liberty.

At almost every meeting some new cases of persons
under conviction, were made known, and at almost eve
ry meeting some were brought out. I was a strict ob
server of all that passed, and tried to persuade myself
that I was friendly to religion.

There were instances in which persons would cry out
in meeting, apparently in great distress; others would
audibly and with great rapidity express their joys, and
exhort others to repentance. I was exceedingly disgust
ed at those exercises; and in one instance had great diffi
culty in suppressing my resentment; I was on the point
of openly and violently remonstrating against such pro-

ANDREW SHERBUIIX

ceedings. It was in the evening, an
drew, lest I should openly oppose.

I verily thought that the young man who cried out,
made all the noise that he could, and it seemed to me
altogether presumptuous in him. I thought he might
have refrained. An old gentleman seeing me leave the
meeting, suspected my case and followed me. He
found me leaning over the fence at a short distance from
the door, and very tenderly addressed me as follows:

" Andrew, I feel distressed!" " What is the matter,
Mr. Barnes?" said I. Said he, "I hope you won't be
offended, Andrew; I do not wish to hurt your feelings,
but I hope you will suffer me to be plain with you; I
was really afraid you were offended, which occasioned
you to go out."

" Mr. Barnes," said I, t( what occasion is there for
so much noise, does that fellow think that the Almighty
is deaf?" " O Andrew, " said he, " if you only knew
how that poor fellow feels, you would not talk so. I
have no douht but that he feels himself an undone crea
ture, hut I trust God will have mercy on him and on us
too." I concluded to stay until the meeting was closed;
hut my mind was much troubled because I indulged such
hardness against that young man.

I went home with a very heavy heart, and my mind
was much employed in contemplation. The preachers,
and professors, and young converts all insisted on the
necessity of conversion; this business all seemed as
mysterious to me as it I had never heard Mrs. Bell
speak on the subject.

The young man above mentioned, I believe, found
relief and comfort before the next meeting; he appeared
very happy, and freely spoke of the goodness of God.

I became seriously impressed with the importance cf
possessing a new heart. The number of converts was
increased almost every day. I attended their meetings
every sabbath and often at other times. The work spread
into the adjacent towns of Hiram, Baldwin and Liming-
ton, and converts multiplied.

I was much disquieted, and wondered why I was not
called among the rest; for I had fully acceded to the

142 MEMOIRS OF

principle, that conversion was indispensably necessary
in order to happiness in eternity.

My faith in LJniversalism fled like the baseless fabric
of a vision.

" This solemn truth did yet remain,
The sinner must be born again,
Or down to ruin go."

I was alternately friendly and hostile to the work. I
sometimes resolved that I would go to meeting no more,
and perhaps the next meeting I heard of, 1 would attend.
I was looking and wishing to be converted; but I did not
wish to have any noise about it, nor did I wish to have
anv one know it but myself.

I was unwilling that any one should know the exercises
of my mind. 1 prayed often, but could not get near the
throne. I endeavored to take a view of my whole life,
and brought into view the various impressions which had
been on my mind, from my early childhood to that time,
in order to see if I could bring up any thing to ground a
hope upon. But alas! my sins would come up, and I
could cherish no hope.

As I have before observed, I had indulged a hope that
my prayers had procured a pardon of my sins from day
to day, as I committed them; but now I felt that all the
long black catalogue of crimes was still against me, and
would sink me to endless wo.

The second season 1 resided in Cornish, I lived with
Mr. E. Barker. He and his wife appeared under very
serious impressions of mind. They lived on the main
road, and had better accommodations than any other
family in the place. They frequently invited ministers
to put up there. This circumstance gave me an oppor
tunity of becoming acquainted with them. They would
sometimes converse with me, and inquire into the state
of my mind. I could only inform them that I was deep
ly concerned, but was without hope.

I frequently went a considerable distance into the
woods to examine myself and pray. I would endeavor
to tell the Lord my dreadful case; I wished to confess
all my sins before him with the deepest humility. I

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 143

wanted the work of repentance to be thorough, to have
my will completely bowed; I felt insufficient, utterly in
sufficient to perform the work. I pleaded with God for
Christ's sake, to humble me, and grant me unfeigned
repentance and pardon my guilty soul.

I felt myself a great sinner, I acknowledged myself
to be justly condemned, and intreated for mercy; and
after having prayed long and with many tears, I must
return with my mind equally burdened and distressed as
when I went. At some times I could weep freely, and
at other times 1 could not shed a tear if it would save
my soul.

I viewed myself to be the vilest of the vile. I cannot
say that 1 felt so much horror and dread of hell as 1 have
heard many express, but my heart was like a troubled
sea, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.

At meetings I would often be on the very point of
crying out, but I knew not what to say, nor did I wish by
any means to say any thing; yet it seemed as if I should
be involuntarily impelled to cry out; the voice seemed
to say " cry!" but I did not voluntarily say, u what shall
I cry?" I very much leared that I should cry some
thing in consequence of which I should feel extremely
mortified.

Such impressions occasioned most distressing strug
gles within my troubled breast. I have many times hur
ried at the close of the meeting to get out, fearing that
I should of necessity make a noise; for I had not the
least arrangement in my own mind what to say. After
I had retired and was alone, I was frequently distressed
for fear I had resisted and grieved the Spirit. I would
then query whether it could be possible that those im
pressions were the movings of the Spirit, when there was
nothing in particular dictated to me to say. I feared that
it was the pride of my heart and the stubbornness of my
will, and want of faith in Jesus Christ; and whether if I
had opened my mouth, he would not have filled it.

On one of these occasions, on retiring from meeting,
I went into the wood to pray that the Lord would con
vince me, in regard to this struggle, whether I should
open my mouth or not: but the wind blew very hard in-

144 MEMOIRS OF

deed, and some limbs were broken from the trees. 1
was fearful lest the trees would fall on me, I could find
no place in which I could compose myself to pray, while
in such danger.

At length I discovered a very large tree, that had long
before been turned up by the roots. It lay athwart an
other large tree, and lay two or three feet from the
ground. I took my station under this tree as a place of
safety. I had scarcely commenced my devotions ere I
was disquieted with a train of reflections, which entirely
baffled my design. I upbraided myself that I had so lit
tle confidence in God, that I could not trust myself to his
protection in any place; for I was at once convinced that
I was as insecure in my imaginary strong hold, as in any
other place.

I forsook my retreat and for a while stood aghast. 1
may with propriety say "The tumult of my thoughts held
me in sad suspense." I could not dispense with prayer,
but I could not pray in that dangerous place.

I returned from the woods and secreted myself in a
cluster of bushes, and before 1 could attempt to pray, it
seemed as if some preparatory exercise was necessary;
and I commenced a train of reflections. I viewed my
self a sinner, yea, even the chief of sinners. I very much
desired to know whether it was my duty to cry out in
meeting, and I queried whether if the Spirit required me
to cry out, if 1 should not have something impressed on
my mind to say; but inasmuch as no particular express
ions were presented to my mind, 1 was disposed to jus
tify my forbearance; and yet I was not entirely satisfied.
There was, moreover, at that time a heavy burden upon
my mind, in consequence of my retiring from the woods.
I viewed myself as justly deserving the wrath of heaven.
I concluded that it was the devil who suggested to me
my danger while in the woods, and that I had yielded to
his temptations, rather than to place a confidence in God
for protection.

It seemed as if I was weighed in the balances and
found wanting, and indeed I felt in want. I freely con
fessed my many sins, was deeply sensible of my entire
depravity; but there were actual transgressions, the guilt

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 145

of which lay heavy on my soul. I prayed that God
would graciously give me repentance, and forgive my
many sins; and release me from the heavy burden which
so constantly pressed down my spirits; but I found no
relief. I prayed again and endeavored to be more fer
vent, but all my efforts were abortive. My heart was
yet hard, and my burden yet heavy. 1 felt a reluctance
to leave the place and dreaded going home in my guilty,
perplexed, and dejected condition.

I sometimes almost resolved not to leave the place;
but having done all that I could do, and yet having done
nothing effectually, concluded that it would be useless to
tarry longer, and yet I felt a reluctance in going to the
house in my forlorn condition; for as several of the fam
ily had also been to meeting, I concluded that there
would, of course, be an enquiry where Andrew had been
all this while; for it was probably near two hours after
the meeting was closed before I got home. I have no
recollection, however, that any questions were asked on
the occasion.

Such is the pride of the human heart that I was asham
ed to have it known that I was under anxious concern
about my eternal state. There were, however, some
persons who had very critically observed me, and had
Lad some conversation with me; but I cautiously con
cealed the state of my mind as to particular exercises,
yet I was willing to have it understood that I felt friend
ly to religion. I had long ere this, had some hard con
tests with my self-righteous pharisaical pride; but this
sin still clave to me, or rather I to that; and even to this
day it has been my almost constant attendant. But I
thank my God that he has not only discovered this deadly
enemy to me, but that he has also discovered to me the
other inbred lusts and corruptions of my heart, and I
trust he has also given me a hostile spirit to them all, so
far as 1 have discovered them.

During the season in which I was employed by Mr.
Barker, I had a fit of sickness, occasioned by working
too hard, although he frequently cautioned me to for
bear, knowing that my constitution was impaired; but I
was ambitious to do as much as his other laborers, and
13

146 MEMOIRS OF

yet, with all my exertions, it was impracticable. 1 was
obliged to send more than twenty miles for doctor A.
Hall, of Alfred, to attend me; there was no physician
nearer, and I was the first person who had called him
into that town.

My uncle and other friends observed to me that I
never should be able to get my living by manual labor.
This was very trying to my feelings, and the more so as
I had scarcely ever had been outdone while a sailor, af
ter I undertook to do my duty before the mast.

My spirits were good and my limbs firm, my hands
and arms uncommonly strong, and they had been fre
quently tried. Often had I been suspended by the arms
and held my grip, in gales of wind, where others must
have been plunged irrecoverably into the deep, lint I
had now a weakness of the stomach. Here I first fail
ed: and a little severe exertion after the stomach began
to complain, would debilitate the whole system. While
unable to labor, I felt great depression of spirits, my
prospects dubious. I was scarcely free from debt, for I
had become responsible for my mother's house rent in
Portsmouth, nor had I any capital to commence business.
My education was quite limited, although much superior
to any other person's in the town. Of course, when the
winter came about, I had no difficulty in getting a
school. Previous to my commencing this business, I
put myself under the tuition of my cousin, Jethro Fur-
ber, who was quite a proficient in arithmetic and geom
etry.

In a few weeks I obtained a sufficient knowledge of
the art of surveying, to enable me to do any business-
which was necessary at that time in the country where
I resided,

It was no small gratification to me that I gave entire
satisfaction to my employers in my school; and I had al
so the fortune to have the good will of my scholars : but
these things proved a snare to me, for in regard to reli
gion my mind relapsed in a measure.

But the liberties in which I indulged, planted thorns in
my pillow. I found that I could not sin at a cheap rate.

.When the spring came on, I commenced business by

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 147

myself. I was not able to buy any land, but undertook
to clear eight acres for Mr. Boynton, and with what lit
tle money 1 could command, I purchased such articles in
Portsmouth, as would command labor, and expended
this labor in clearing the land. I had also considerable
business in surveying; but I generally had to take my
pay in labor; but this I could turn to good advantage in
clearing my land.

I made my home at Mr. Barker's, and had to go nearly
half a mile to my work, and chiefly through the woods.

The reformation had nearly subsided, to appearance,
I yet remained unconverted, and feared that the day of
grace was passed. I would sometimes relate the exer
cises of my mind, at other times I would affect to deny
I had any anxious concern about my own salvation; and
indeed I sometimes questioned whether all that had
transpired in what was called the reformation, and iny
own exercises about religion were not altogether imag
inary.

I have sometimes questioned the existence of a God,
or if there was, whether in his providence he superinten
ded the various events and concerns of creatures. But
here I could not long dwell; I could not reason Jehovah
out of existence. 1 could not deny his sovereignly, om
nipotence or omnipresence; but I was not reconciled to
Ins economy. I read many passages of scripture, which
to me were " hard sayings." I had exceedingly hard
trials with the sayings of Jesus in Matthew xi. 25 arid
26, and Luke x. 20 and 21.

It was a trying thought to me that the names of any
should be written in heaven if mine was not written there,
I presumed that those whose names were written there,
were written there before the foundation of the world,
and that if mine was not written, I never should go there.

I was unreconciled to Jesus because he rejoiced and
thanked the Father that these things were so. And I
was equally unreconciled to the Father, that he should
hide these things from some and reveal them to others.

The following passage was to me a hard saying.
"And Jesus said, for judgment I am come into this
world, that they that see not, might see; and that they that

18 MEMOIRS OF

see, might be made blind." John ix. 39, the tenth and
the seventeenth of John; the eighth and ninth of Ilo-
mans, and also the first chapter of the Epistle to the
Ephesians, contained many passages that were very try
ing to me.

The reformation, as I before observed, seemed to have
subsided, arid there arose some disputations between the
Presbyterians and Free Will Baptists, upon certain points
of doctrine, for the preachers of each denomination fre
quently preached to the same congregation. The great
er part of their preachers were Calvinists.

I was rather in favor of the free-will party, for I had
not yet altogether given up the thoughts of doing some
thing toward my own salvation; and yet it seemed that
I had already done all that was possible for me to do.

I before said that I had some distance to go through
the woods to my work. It was not often that any one
but myself passed that way, and as I had for a long time
been in the habit of praying, it seemed both convenient
and necessary, that I should at least occasionally pray
in these woods. But the greatest difficulty was to find
a suitable place, where I should be sufficiently retired.
I had probably passed a number of times through these
woods without attempting to pray, it seemed so difficult
to find a convenient place.

I at length apprehended that Satan did not design I
should find a convenient place, if he could prevent me,
for I could not pass through the lonely forest without
having my rnind exercised respecting prayer. I there
fore made it my business to look out a convenient place
for that purpose. I discovered a very large black birch
tree, a few rods north of my path; the spurs of its roots
put out from the trunk so high up, that on the north side
between two of its largest spurs, a person might conceal
himself, except on one side.

This seemed the most suitable place for me to com
mence my devotions, and here I attempted to pray, but
my mind was considerably embarrassed; the adversary
of souls was busy with me. I, however, was very con
stant in visiting this place; but I could not find that re
lief that my soul seemed to pant after, and I began to

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 149

question the propriety of my continuing the practice, for
it seemed that I could not possibly get near the throne.
My prayers seemed to be shut out; I felt my depravity;
I lamented my iniquities, and plead for pardon. I plead
with God to let me know why my petitions were reject
ed. I well knew that he perfectly comprehended me,
and that I could not deceive him.

Probably I did not at this time realize that there was
much of the scriptures to which I was not reconciled. —
I finally concluded that it was useless for me to pray,
and so I passed by my tree without attempting it. I
had gone but a few rods, before I had very hard strug
gles in my mind: there was a query whether I should
turn my back upon God. I halted, and inquired why I
should pray, when I could realize no benefit from it? or
why pray in that place, in particular? And, perhaps, if
I had prayed that that might have been the time when I
should have found relief; I could not feel at liberty to
proceed, but must return to the tree, and attempt to
pray. I prayed, and still continued to pray; and at
times would have apparently some enlargement, but
nothing which was fully satisfactory. This practice I
continued pretty much through the season.

In the autumn of the year, Doctor Hezekiah Smith,
of Haverhill, passed through Cornish, on his return
home from a journey to the north. He was, doubtless,
one of the most accomplished arid most pious ministers
of the age. He put up with old Mr. Joshua Chadbourn,
who lived at that time in an ordinary log cabin. They
had had some acquaintance some years before, in San-
lord, where there had been a reformation. Dr. Smith
was a fine looking man, and genteel in his de
portment. I was surprised to see how perfectly at home
he seemed to be in the humble cottage; but I was aston
ished when I heard him preach. He came late on Sat
urday evening, preached three times on the Sabbath,
and left us on Monday morning. His preaching caus
ed my very soul to tremble: I have a perfect recollec
tion of his text to this day. At the close of the last ex
ercise, I retired to the deep forest. I went a consider
able distance, and with a full determination never more
13*

150 MEMOIRS OP

to. behold the face of a mortal, until I could find the
Lord to be precious to my soul. I knew that in one di
rection it was five or six miles before I should come to
any road or inhabitants. I resolved to unfold my whole
soul to God, and plead for mercy; concluding that I could
not make too great a sacrifice for the salvation of my
soul. I prayed a long time: I made confession of all
the sins I could remember, and plead forgiveness, and
that God would pardon those which I had forgotten.
— I prayed aloud — I exhausted my thoughts, and
ideas — I exhausted my strength — 1 almost fainted.
I awaited a smile from heaven; but I found no relief,
and began to murmur against God. I argued that I
had done all that was in my power, and that he would
not help me. A deep remorse took hold on me: I wonder
ed that God did not strike dead such a wretch: such blas
phemous and presumptuous thoughts abundantly increa
sed my guilt and distress. 1 then endeavored to become
more fervent; and plead with God, that for Christ's
sake, he would humble me: that he would grant me true
repentance, and forgive my sins, and especially my re
cent blasphemous thoughts.

Myeoulwas in deep anguish: I wished that I had
never had a being: I felt as if I was the vilest of the vile;
the very chief of sinners. It seemed as if my damnation
was sealed, and that there was no hope for me; and I
wondered why I was kept in existence. It was myste
rious to me, why I should have been so long under such
great distress; that I should have strove so hard and so
perseveringly to get religion, and yet remain in such a
wretched state. I plead with the Almighty that he
would rectify my heart; enlighten my understanding;
and convince me what he would have done, and enable
me to do it. But after all I could think, say, or do, I
still remained comfortless, und seemed to sink into stu
pidity, and felt as if I was "more brutish than any man."
I queried whether I had not presumptuously formed the
aforesaid resolution, to bring the all wise God to my
terms. I was ashamed of myself, and concluded to re
tire from the woods.

Being acquainted with the ground, by the help of the

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 151

stars, I shaped my course for a road that led to my un
cle's. It was probably past midnight when I crept into
his hovel. I took a bundle of flax for a pillow: but be
fore I could lay down to sleep, I must pray again. I
felt more composed for a few minutes, and then felt a
heavy trial on my mind, presuming I had fallen into a
state of insensibility. I lay down, and began to look
over the various scenes through which I had passed;
the dangers I had escaped; and the many promises I had
made to God, and broken. I recollected that my pre
vious periods of conviction were of short duration, but
that I had now been long under distress; and feared
that I should never find favor with God. I believe that
I slept a little, but left the hovel as soon as it was light;
for I was very unwilling to have it known how or where
I had spent the night.

In returning to Mr. Barker's, I met my uncle. The
preaching had very much affected him, and he had tar
ried all night with one of his friends.

We had but a very few words together, probably
equally unwilling to disclose the state of our minds, or
make inquiries of each other. We had passed through
hard trials together, but they were very different ' from
the present. My mind was more solemn than usual for
some days, and I thought much on Dr. Smith's dis
courses.

Shortly after these things, I was informed that there
was an office opened in the city of New- York, and com
missioners appointed, to settle naval accounts. I resolv
ed to go personally and settle my own; and I obtained
ten or more letters of attorney from my shipmates, to
settle theirs also.

Mr. Thomas Lord, who was cooper of the Ranger,
lived in Limerick, about seven miles from Cornish: he
wished me to take a power of attorney from him. This
circumstance occasioned me to spend a night with him;
and as we had been old shipmates together, it was to be
expected that we should converse upon our adventures.
My friend was yet in the habit of using some of the
seaman's dialect, but 1 had entirely laid it aside.
In the course of the evening, our conversation turned

1£2 MEMOIRS OF

upon this subject. My friend acknowledged it to be
a useless and a wicked practice, and that he had several
times resolved to quit, and for a short time had abstain
ed from it; but that he had become addicted to it; his
neighbors in general practised it, and that it was difficult
for him to avoid it.

I gave him some account of what had taken place in
Cornish for near two years past, and how disgusting it
had been to me, and the different views now entertained
on the subject; although I was far from thinking myself
a Christian. Mr. L. had heard rumors of the work in
Cornish, but had paid little or no attention to it. It was
now late in the evening: there was no candle burning,
and the fire was low. Mr. Lord discovered his wife fall
ing from her chair; he being near her, caught and sup
ported her. Much surprised, he desired me to support
her while he should get a light: he stepped into a back
room where he had been at work, and stooping down in
haste to get a handful of shavings, struck his forehead
violently on the post of a chair, which occasioned so
much pain that at first he was in fear that he had lost his
eye; (the blow was on the edge of the bone, directly
above the eye;) he hove the shavings on the fire, which
immediately afforded a good light. Mrs. Lord had par
tially recovered, and Mr. Lord soon ascertained that his
eye was not materially injured, and observed that it was
of the Lord's mercy that it was no worse.

It afterwards appeared that Mrs. L. had fainted, or
something like it, in consequence of the observations and
reflections on the reformation in Cornish. I shall have
occasion to refer to this subject hereafter.

It is very natural to suppose that I felt a strong attach
ment to my two uncles (Timothy and James Weymouth,)
who sailed with me in the Ranger, and who were in cap
tivity with me in Charleston, South-Carolina. Timothy
had settled himself comfortably in Meredith, New-Hamp
shire. While a lad, he lived with my father, when I was
but a small boy: he was therefore to me as a brother, and
as I was going to New- York on the business before men
tioned, I thought it to be highly expedient to give my un
cle Timothy an opportunity to get his account settled.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 153

I therefore took a journey to Meredith, about fifty miles,
on foot; as I was unable to afford myself a horse. I was
prepared to commence my journey from Portsmouth,
New-Hampshire to the city of New- York, about the first
of January, 1788.

On my arrival at the city of New-York, I presented
my papers at the office, and was informed that my busi
ness might be adjusted in about ten days. I observed to
the gentlemen who were clerks in the office, that it would
be very inconvenient forme to be detained so long: that
I had come more than 300 miles on foot, that I was in
low circumstances, and had but little money; and should
feel very much obliged to them, if they would hasten the •
business; and they seemed quite accommodating. I
cannot say whether they were Yankees or not; at any
rate, they were as inquisitive as Yankees generally are,
and asked me a great many questions.

I presume they had been officers in the army them
selves. They requested me to call again in three or
four days, and said they would do all they could to facil
itate the business. A Mrs. Ayres, of Portsmouth, with
whom I was intimately acquainted, had a son (by her
first husband) then residing in the city of New- York,
whose name was Pierce: he sailed from that port master
of a vessel. I called on this gentleman and delivered
him a letter from his mother. Capt. Pierce expressed
himself very glad to see an old townsman. Although he
had never seen me before, he treated me with particular
attention, and very cordially invited me to, and even in
sisted, that I should make his house my home, while I
continued in the city. There is a spirit of philanthropy
generally among sailors, which is riot always to be found
in men of other professions.

This circumstance I view to have been a peculiar in
terposition of a gracious providence in rny favor; and es
pecially as I was indigent, and the money which I was
to receive from government, was a very poor currency.
While I continued in the city, I had sufficient leisure to
walk round the docks and wharves with Capt. Pierce.

While paying some attention to the beautiful looking
vessels which I visited in company with my friend, I felt

154 MEMOIRS OF

such an attachment to my old employment, that I had
some difficulty in overcoming the temptation to embark,
and follow my former business. However, I brought
into view the situation in which I was placed; the re
sponsibility I was under to my employers; and various
other considerations, I saw at once the impropriety of
such a measure. I had also an opportunity more than
once to cast a look across the East river, where yet lay
that wretched old prison-ship, the Jersey; where, five
years ago from that very month, day, and hour, I had
Buffered almost every thing but death. The Volley bank,
(so called,) on the Long-Island side, under which a large
majority of my shipmates had left their bones, lay full in
my view! I shall not undertake minutely to describe
the sensations of my soul on those occasions, for they are
beyond my powers of description: I must therefore leave
ray readers to draw their own conclusions.

When I called the second .time at the office, I found
my business settled. I received near a thousand dollars
for myself and shipmates: my own wages for fifteen
months' service, (after deducting several articles of cloth
ing which I had drawn,) amounted to about seventy-three
dollars; worth at this time about two and eight pence on
the pound, or between twelve and thirteen cents on the
dollar. The whole sum was paid in paper, which was
called "Walker's final settlement." I took my money,
such as it was, and in an office adjoining, under the same
roof, I was offered the cash for the whole sum, at two
and eight pence on the pound. I felt indignant; drop
ped a few words probably rather severe or insolent; and
directly after, taking a grateful leave of rny host, clear
ed out from New- York the second time, abundantly more
sea-worthy than when I cleared out from the satellites of
the old Jersey, five years before. I returned as far as
Boston, and was under the necessity of replenishing my
purse: 1 therefore sold one of my final settlement certifi
cates. It was about thirty-three dollars, and belonged to
John Hooper, who agreed to let me have it at the "going
price." I found these certificates to be in demand at
Boston, Salem, Newburyport and Portsmouth; and in
deed there were runners in all parts of our country buy
ing up those certificates, as well as soldiers' claims,

ANDREW SHERBUR.VE,

Walker's final settlements would brirYg but two and
eight pence on the pound, however, at that time, and
necessity compelled me to part with mine; so that for
thirteen months' seruice on board the Ranger, (exclu
sive of the time of my imprisonment, ike.) I received
something short of ten dollars; and even this was not
paid until eight years after the service was performed.

Whether the time of our imprisonment was included
in making up our wages, I am not able to say. —
The time of our imprisonment, however, was not long;
but it was my lot to endure three months' painful sick
ness before I was capable of service again. \Vhiie tak
ing my long and tedious walk to and from the city of
IN ew- York, a distance of near seven hundred miles,
which was performed in about six weeks, I had opportu
nity to reflect much on the previous exercises of my
mind upon the subject of religion, and I was resolved
not to relinquish the pursuit of an object of such infinite
importance. The excitement of rny mind, however,
was considerably abated. I continued to pray, and,
alas! I also continued to sin. The reformation had ap
parently subsided, and meetings were not so frequent
•as usual. In the latter part of Ihis winter I employed
mysell in studying arithmetic and geometry, in order that
I might be a greater proficient in surveying; there being
<L prohability that I should have considerable business in
that line. I bought ten acres of land, and the summer
following built me a small house. In this season I had
another fit of sickness.

Early in September, Elder Zebediah Richardson, who
had frequently preached in Cornish, made us a visit, and
there were two women (a Mrs. Benton and a Mrs. Rich
ardson) offered themselves for baptism. I attended the
meeting and heard them relate their experience before
the whole congregation; that being the custom in those
days.

I had never before felt such an excitement on such an
occasion. They had my undeviating attention through
their whole narration. They appeared to me so angelic,
tlwLt I was not in the least disposed to question the truth
of a single word they uttered. They were strangers to

MEMOIRS OF

me, and lived in the adjoining town of Baldwin. With a
perfect knowledge of my heart, they could not have ex
pressed my exercises of mind for years past, more fully
than they did; but they had obtained a peace, and they
knew a joy to which I was a stranger. I thought, I ver
ily thought, that if I could obtain the meanest place
among the saints — if I could be but a door-keeper in the
house of God, I should be happy. Yea, if the world
was mine. I would cheerfully give it, if I might be per
mitted to be servant of all. This was in the fore part of
the dav ; the preacher had an appointment at Limerick,
a town seven miles south, at four o'clock in the after
noon, and I was resolved that if I could get a horse, I
would bear him company, and tell him my whole heart.

For some time previous to this, I had become rather
stupid and cold in my mind: — yes, I had even relapsed,
and fallen into some of my former sins: had become very
worldly minded; but I constantly found that

" Sin's promised joys were turned to pain."

I had no difficulty in obtaining a horse to ride to Lim
erick, but I muse go half a mile to a pasture and take it
myself. My case seemed urgent: I must go, and noth
ing except some peculiar interposition of providence
could hinder. 1 had several hands engaged to work for
me the next day, but I would not suffer this circumstance
to prevent me. I must go with Mr. Richardson, andteM
him my whole heart. I had also resolved to visit two
other ministers, who had previously invited me to call
upon them. My .mind was under such excitement that
I could eat no dinner, though repeatedly urged by my
friends.

I was very impatient to have elder Richardson's com
pany, but to my great disappointment and extreme mor
tification there was another person going in company;
this completely baffled my plan. I could not possibly en
joy the liberty I had anticipated in conversing with elder
Richaidson. My mind was extremely perplexed, I felt
myself to be the most miserable of all creatures, and
wished myself at home again. I began to enquire what

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 157

my neighbors would say in consequence of my leaving
my business and going oft* with a minister. I had made
it up in my mind before 1 set out, that if any of my friends
wished to know my business at Limerick, I could tell
them that Mr. Lord was owing me some money, and that
1 wished to know whether it was ready for me.

Such was the pride and deceitfulness of my heart,
that I was unwilling to have that known of me which it
was out of my power to conceal, even from creatures,
much less from Him who searcheth the heart and
trieth the reins. I could not feel at liberty to talk either
with Mr. R. or the other person present.

At length we came in sight of the meeting and saw
many people collected. I felt like a malefactor, and
would have preferred being alone in the wilderness; but
it seemed as if I was almost involuntarily impelled for
ward. I had scarcely dismounted ere I saw my old
shipmate, (Mr. Lord,) hastening toward me with a coun
tenance unusually expressive of joy and friendship. He
expressed himself in the following manner.

" How do you do, Mr. Sherburne, 1 am glad to see
you, and I must tell you that God has converted my
soul. Esther is converted too, and you were the instru
ment of it. I thought I must speak to you before meet
ing began, or else I should not enjoy the meeting.

I owe you some money, but I have not got it, I
thought I would speak to you about it before meeting
began, or otherwise it would be worrying me all meet
ing time. I hope you won't think hard of me, Mr. Sher
burne, I suppose 1 can get it for you soon."

I could scarcely, (without interrupting him) tell him
that he need not give himself any concern about the
money. He was in haste to inform me what had recent
ly taken place in his own family and among his neigh
bors, within two weeks; he referred to the circumstance
which I have before mentioned respecting his wife's
fainting. It was like a dagger to my heart that he
should consider the conversation I had had with himself
and his wife the winter before, as being the instrumen
tal means of her conversion. " What,"
it be possible that a wretch so vile,)B<?>
14

158 MEMOIRS OF

abominable, could be the means of a soul's conversion?"
I sunk into dejection and despair.

Again I viewed the scenes of distress through which
I had been drawn, and the numerous instances of con
versions which had taken place within the circle of my
acquaintance since I had been deeply concerned, and in
how short a time some had been brought to rejoice in
Jesus. It seemed as if mine was a lost case; that it was
God's design to send me down to regions of black des
pair; and I was, notwithstanding, constrained to ac
knowledge that God was just, and that I justly deserv
ed his everlasting displeasure.

In this state of embarrassment, I went into the meet
ing; my perplexity continued throughout the services.
At the close of the meeting the young converts surroun
ded the minister and appeared very happy. I stood
aloof, and by the time 1 had resolved to follow the min
ister to his lodgings, and make to him the communica
tions which I had formerly designed, my old ship
mate came to rne and insisted that I must go and spend
the night with him: the congregation had principally
dispersed. Mr. Lord and myself mounted our horses
in company with six or eight others; a Mrs. Howard, a
lady of decent abilities and a good education, with whom
I had had some acquaintance, was riding beside me, and
addressed me as follows:

" Well, Mr. Sherburne, what do you think of all this?
do you think you have any religion?" Before I was
aware I cried aloud, and the tears flowing copiously. I
hastily replied, " O dear madam, I know nothing about
religion; I am a poor miserable sinner."

In a moment I felt ready to upbraid myself for my im
becility. I was very much ashamed that I had exposed
myself in such a company; it was some mitigation of my
distress that they were all Christians, for wretched as I
was, I felt a reverence for Christians. My friends seem
ed to wish to comfort me, and especially Mr. Lord and
his wife.

Mrs. L. now felt a freedom to express the exercise of
her mind at the time she fainted; though she had nev
er felt willing to speak of it until she had entertained a

ANDREW SliERBURNE. 159

hope that she was converted. They both manifested a
great degree of sympathy for me.

We passed the greatest part of the night in conversa
tion, and 1 allowed myself the liberty of relating the ex
ercises of my mind. Mr. Lord argued that I certainly
must be converted; that I knew much more than he did,
and he was confident that the Lord had converted his
soul — that he had no desire to sin, that he felt love to
Jesus, and had much delight in Christians, and had
much satisfaction in reading the scriptures.

'•* You know," said he, " what a poor ignorant crea
ture I was; I had never paid any attention to religion or
to the bible, but God in his mercy to me, took me just
as I was, and showed me that I was an awful sinner,
and converted me; but 1 don't know half so much about -
the scriptures now as you do. I'll go down to Mills'
with you in the morning; he can talk with you, he is
but a young man, but he is very gifted in prayer, and is
well acquainted with the scriptures."

In the morning we went down to Messrs. John and
Jacob Mills; they both lived in one house, themselves
and their wives had lately experienced religion, also
Nancy Libbey, who was a sister to John Mills' wife.

My friend L. introduced me to them all, but I was
very much shut up in my mind; they spent an hour
in reading, singing, and praying, and I returned to Mr.
Lord's again and took breakfast.

Elder Richardson, in returning home to Sanford, just
called to the door to speak to the young converts. He
said to me, " Well, young man, do you find any further
satisfaction in your mind?" I replied, " No, Sir, nor
shall I, unless the Lord helps me." " True enough,"
said he, " if the Lord don't help you, you will never get
help;" and immediately clapped spurs to his horse and
went on. Fora moment I felt displeased with him, but
I shortly felt distressed in consequence of indulging
that feeling.

I concluded to go on, and call upon the two other
ministers heretofore referred to. I was resolved no Ion-
gar to conceal the state of my mind. Mr. L. could
make a little business on the same road, and concluded
to go several .miles with me. In passing the house we

ICO MEMOIRS OF

had visited in the morning, he had occasion to call, and
he invited me to call, but I declined.

Jacob Mills was in his tan-house, or barn on the op
posite side of the road, grinding bark. I stepped into
the tan-house, while Mr. L. went into the house. As
soon as Mr. Mills saw me, he left his work and drew
toward me, and began to speak very freely in representing
what a wicked slate the neighborhood was in but a few-
days ago, and what a remarkable change had taken
place with them.

He had my attention for a moment. He was seated
on a ladder a few yards from me. Such a train of re
flections ran thro' my mind, together with an " horror of
great darkness," that I did not notice him. But in a mo
ment I felt an extraordinary and powerful change, and
ere I was aware, my whole soul was deeply employed in
adoration. I conceived, saw, and felt more of Deity
than I had ever done in all my life before: my darkness
and gloom had fled, my burden was gone, my soul seem
ed as calm and serene as the summer evening, and my
employment was adoration, adoration !

I adored the power supreme: I felt love, joy, peace.
A little insect fluttered before my eyes, in which I saw
more of God, or rather conceived more of God, than had
been exhibited to me in all the preaching Jhad ever
heard. 1 said within, what meaneth this? Is this con
version? I wist not what to call it, but I had no trouble;
I had no pain either of body or mind; I had no guilt or
fear; all was peace, and I must adore.

Perhaps two minutes had not passed away in this
happy frame of mind, before I was interrupted by a tri
fling noise that seemed to come from behind me. I turn
ed about, and to rny surprise, saw five or six persons
regularly formed in a semi-circle, all standing motion
less, with their eyes fixed upon me, and I believe the
tears were trickling down most, if not all their cheeks.
They looked to me as angels, I loved them as my own
soul; all was silent as death.

I was the first who broke silence, and said, "I feel
differently from what I ever did before." Said one arid
another, <( How do you feel?" I attempted some descrip-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 161

tion; but neither tongue nor pen can describe it. Their
countenances immediately changed, and they all seemed
exceeding joyful, and very confident that 1 had passed
from death unto life, and I could heartily rejoice with
them, for my peace was like a river.

We all left the tan-house and went into the house, and
joined in singing, prayer arid praise to God and the Larnb.

1 was desirous to know what circumstance induced
them all to come into the barn just at that time. I was
informed that on Mr. Lord's going into the house, the in
quiry was made what had become of that young man?
He answered, "that he had gone into the barn." u Why
did he not come in," said one; Mr. L. replied, that he
invited him to come in, but he declined. " Why, I want
to see him again," said one and another. " Oh!" said Mr.
L. " you never saw any poor soul more burdened than he
is." " Why, we must see him again." Finally, they
all set out and came into the barn together. It seems
that they came there about the time that the heavy bur
den was removed from my soul.

They freely expressed to me what a deep sympathy
they felt for me, and the great joy they felt on my deliv
erance.

All worldly business was suspended, and each appear
ed to be as happy as creatures could be in this state of
existence. We sometimes contrasted our present views
and feelings with what they had formerly been. For my
self, I never before felt such perfect freedom in express
ing what had been the exercises of my mind. My com
panions seemed to be the excellent of the earth, in whom
was my delight. I could freely say,

" My willing soul would stay,

In such a frame as this;
And sit and sing herself away,

To everlasting bliss."

Our interview commenced about 9 o'clock, and con
tinued until past noon, before they seemed to think that
they had any more to do with the world.

.During this period I had such views and contempla
tions, that I was almost in astonishment and wonder that
14*

16 MEMOIRS OF

a creature so vile and so unbelieving as I had been,
should have been rendered capable of so much joy in
God, my Savior. I could not conceive that any thing
short of the interposition of the power and spirit of a
gracious Savior could communicate such happiness to
rny soul. It seemed " like a young heaven on earthly
ground, and glory in the bud,"

While in this delightful company, I more than once
had this question pass my mind, whether this joy would
continue with me after I should leave this company? but
the thought was momentary.

At length something was said about the time of day,
(for we seemed ail to have been lost in regard to time,)
and it being past twelve o'clock, I purposed to be going;
but iny good friends would not consent that I should go
until alter dinner. They insisted on a promise, that I
would call on them again in the course of the ensuing
week. It was so late that Mr. L. concluded not tov ac
company me any farther, and for a moment I regretted
leaving such delightful company.

Having taken dinner, and I being about to leave them,
each one took me by the hand and bid me God speed.
When I put my foot into the stirrup to mount my horse,
a thought rolled over my mind, whether I should not
leave all my comfort when I left this company; this oc
casioned a moment's depression only, and was gone,
scarcely interrupting my peace.

I went on my way rejoicing in God, my Savior, whose
power and glory was richly displayed in every object on
which I cast my eyes. I had often heard young converts
speak something of the glorious displays of Deity in the
works of creation, but the half was never told me, nor is
it possible that I should describe what I saw and felt of
the displays of divine glory.

Old things had passed away, and all things had become
new; I felt such love, joy and peace, that I could scarce
ly desire those graces of the Holy Spirit to be increased,
for my cup was full. I was astonished when I contrast
ed my present feelings with any I had ever before real
ized. I was perfectly satisfied that nothing short of an
Almighty power could have wrought such a change in
me; a change wrought independently of any act of mine.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 163

I being alone, had an opportunity for uninterrupted re
flection and self-examination; and I endeavored faithful
ly to improve the opportunity.

I was very sensible that I had been one of the very
chief of sinners, but I felt acquitted from all guilt, in view
of what JESUS, my precious Savior had suffered for
wretched sinners. I felt as completely justified as though
I had never sinned. I could realize no more propensity
to sin than I should feel to partake of the most deadly
poison. My love was without dissimulation and my joy
ecstatic. A criminal who had received a pardon under
the gallows could not have felt more grateful to his ben
efactors, than I at this time felt to my gracious God, for
the great deliverance he had wrought for my soul. [
could verily say, " He brought me up also out of an horri
ble pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock,
and established my goings, and he hath put a new song
in my mouth, even praise unto our God."

CHAPTER VIII.

Especial enjoyment in religious company^ Mrs, Bar
ker — H. Chadbourn, Esq. — Reconciled to the Scrip
tures — Severe trials — Takes a school in Limerick —
Visits Portsmouth — Baptized~-~ftev. Joseph Walton —
Marries Miss Jane Muchamore^-County Convention.

THIS extraordinary change took place with me on the
ninth day of September, 1789; and this present day is
the ninth of September, 1827 j that is, just thirty-eight
years ago.

I went on and called to see one of the ministers whom
I have heretofore spoken of, but found no one in the
house. 1 called on the other and found him deeply en
gaged in worldly business. This circumstance depress
ed my mind for a short time.

1 shortly after fell in company with Mr. J. Chadbourn,
a licensed Baptist preacher, under whose ministry I
chiefly sat. He had frequently talked to me in times
past, when. I felt but little liberty to reply; but at this

164 MEMOIRS OF

time I felt great freedom and engrossed almost all the
conversation. He seemed to be patient and attentive to
hear from me a long detail of my previous and recent
exercises. We rode five or six miles together quite slow
ly, it being night. He expressed a satisfaction in his
judgment that I had passed from death unto life; nor did
it, at this time, give me any uneasiness, as it had done
many times previously, when respectable Christians had
intimated to me that they hoped that I was a Christian.

I had to go forty rods from the road to turn out my
horse, and having turned him through the gate, the dis
tressed condition I was in when I took the horse through
the same gate, the day before, to accompany elder Rich
ardson to Limerick, occurred to me. I was then a poor,
dejected, trembling, and perplexed mortal; but now pos
sessed such elevation of soul, such tranquillity of devo-
tedness to my blessed Lord, that I could scarcely desire
to be happier.

I had at this time and place a blessed opportunity to
render thanks and praise to my gracious and glorious
God, and to pray that I might continue in his love, and
worship and serve him in spirit and in truth, so long as I
should live, nor did I neglect the opportunity. I came
boldly, and I trust humbly to the throne of grace. I had
great freedom, and joy inexpressible and full of glory. I
arose from the earth and lifted my eyes toward the heav
ens, and saw as I never .before saw. " The heavens de
clare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth forth
his handy work."

I walked towards the road, and it seemed as if my feet
scarcely touched the ground. My soul was so filled
with love, joy and peace, that I continued praistng and
praying all the way as 1 walked, and yet I could hot al
low myself to go into the house, until I should more for
mally pray again; and I selected a place for that purpose
where I had often attempted to pray before. It was un
der the side of a large rock, perhaps twenty rods from
the road.

I went to this place cheerfully, and I enjoyed such
freedom and happiness as confirmed me, at that time, in
the thought, that my enjoyments would never decrease.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 165

In this frame of mind I went to the house, it being near
mid-night, the family were all in bed. I lighted a can
dle, and before I could retire to rest, I must look into
the bible. 1 read several chapters in one of the Kvan-
gelists, and I feasted upon the word. I retired to my bed
and prayed silently before I lay down. A multitude of
thoughts rushed in quick succession upon me, and among
others, my mother, brothers and sisters, came into my
mind for the first time since I had enjoyed this freedom.
I wondered that I had not thought of them before, and
in a moment. 1 charged myself with ingratitude.

It was instantly suggested to my mind that my religion
could not be genuine, because I had not prayed particu
larly for my own family; but my trial was of short dura
tion. I concluded that it was a suggestion of Satan,
and that I might yet pray for them, which I did. I went
to sleep praying and praising; slept sweetly, and awoke
happy.

I arose immediately resolving to go and talk with some
of the old professors. I went down stairs and prssed
through the room where Mrs. Barker was. Mr. Barker-
had just left the room, I only said " good morning" to
her, as I passed, and went directly to old Mr. Joshua
Chadbourn's. He arid his wife were eminent Christians.
Joseph, their son, lived with them; (he was the young
man with whom I was so vexed, because he cried out in
meeting.) I had a pleasant interview with this family,
and returned to Mr. Barker's about ten o'clock.

I had previously engaged some men to work for me
that, day, and they came according to their promise; but
I being absent, Mr. Barker employed them for himself,
with a design to work for me again when I should be in
readiness. It had been Mrs. Barker's usual practice to
do her kitchen work herself, while her daughter spun;
but under most poignant distress of soul, she had left her
kitchen-work to her daughter, and went into the cham
ber herself. Such was the distress of her mind, howev
er, that she spun but very little. I very much wished to
see her, and to know the state of her mind; for I very
well knew that she was under great anxiety when I lelt
home. 1 went to see her, and inquired of her how she

166 MEMOIRS OF

did; she replied, "Andrew, you are converted." I ask
ed her why she said so: said she, " as soon as I saw your
face this morning, I knew that you were converted; but
1 am damned forever! It is just as I thought it would
be: I had a dream not long since — I thought that you
and Mr. Barker and myself were on a wreck at sea; and
that a hand was reached down and took you off, and left
us, and just so it is." I told her I entertained a hope
and peace I never possessed before. '* Well," said she,
"I am gone forever, there is no hope for me!" " Why
do you talk so, Mrs. Barker," said I, "there is hope for
the chief of sinners." She replied, " I believe I shall
be left to destroy myself, and hell will be my portion;
there is no mercy for me. I have been afraid, the sum
mer past, to take a knife into the cellar to cut meat; I
was under such temptations to cut my own throat; and
in several ways I have been tempted to put a period to
my existence; and I really fear I shall be left to my own
destruction." I waited, though impatiently, to hear the
end of her story, and I felt as if I had authority from
God to reply; rny heart was enlarged and my tongue
was loosed, and I spoke freely to her for some time, and
besought her in the name of God, to desist from all such
presumptuous thoughts and measures; and assured her
that if a creature so abominably vile and polluted as I
had been, could be saved; certainly there might be hope
of her salvation. She appeared somewhat composed, and
I heard no more OH that subject.

I believe it was nearly a year after, before she had sat
isfactory evidence of her conversion. She soon after was
baptized and added to the church; and as far as I know,
remains a member of the church to this day.

Hitherto I had been very critical with professors, and
suspected that a considerable number of them were either
.sell-deceived, or hypocrites; but now I felt tender to
wards them all. 1 found that many of the professors had
long prayed (or the conversion of the young sailor; and
they were not a little rejoiced, that in judgment of char
ity he was delivered from the kingdom of darkness.

I passed this day without paying any particular atten
tion to my worldly bcsiness, excepting to engage two

ANDREW SHERBUILNE. 167

Christian friends to work for me the next day at cutting
cornstalks; one of whom was a sailor by the name of
Aaron Hart, the other was Isaac Thompson, afterwards
a deacon. I welcomed the return of night, that I might
retire for secret prayer; and in this employment I had
unspeakable satisfaction. I came boldly and humbly be
fore the throne, and had sweet communion with my gra
cious and most merciful God: this gave me great en
couragement; and I begnn to feel confirmed in the thought
that however long I might live, I should never feel less in
clined to pray, or less happy in the employment: but
sad experience has long since taught, me my great mis
take; — Little did I conceive at that time, that a perplex
ing trial was at hand. The next morning Mr. B. went
early from home upon some business, and I observed to
Mrs. B. that I expected some help that day, and should
like to get breakfast early. I took the bible into my hand
and sat down looking into it the same as I had very often
done before; little expecting such an event as immedi
ately followed. Mrs. B. put her tea-kettle over the fire in
haste, seated all her children, and. sat down herself, with
much gravity. I was immediately impressed with the
thought that she expected me to pray, and my soul be
gan to tremble. After sitting some time, I said to her,
"why do you sit down, Mrs. Barker?" she replied, "An
drew, are you not willing to pray with us, poor miserable
creatures?" I trembled, but dared not refuse. I read
a chapter, and with difficulty arose and took hold of a
chair; (it was the general practice to stand, in praying, at
that time.) It seemed as if the joints of my loins were loos
ed .1 am persuaded that if I had not had hold of the chair,
I should have fallen: but it seemed that I must die at my
post, rather than retreat. My soul was greatly straight
ened; but "I cied unto God with my voice, even unto God
with my voice, and he gave ear unto me:" and my mind
began to be enlarged. I felt as though I had access to
the throne of grace, and all my embarrassments fled.
But while I was thus rejoicing in God my Savior, a
person knocked at the door, which very much alarmed
me for a moment; but I was enabled to rally my powers,
and soon surmounted the shock, and found the exercise

168 MEMOIRS OF

to be as pleasant and comforting as before. Having en
ded my prayer, I discovered that the person who had
knocked at the door, had entered the room; and proved
to be Mr. Aaron Hart, before mentioned; a full blooded
son of Neptune; an intimate friend of mine, who had re
cently been converted.

With tears in his eyes, he thus acccosted me, "An
drew, I rejoice to catch you fighting the devil. O how
good the Lord is to such wretched sinners as you and I
have been." After breakfast he accompanied me to my
field, where we met Thompson, before named. 1 had
not seen those men the preceding day, but had sent word
to the- in to come and help me. Thompson congratulated
me on the news he had heard respecting my conversion,
£nd we spent the day very agreeably. We performed as
much labor as was usual, and found many intervals to talk
to each other of the superabounding grace and mercy of
God to sinners. I believe we enjoyed the fellowship of
the Spirit. On this day I felt what I had long desired to
enjoy, viz. an entire freedom to express my feelings to
professors of religion; and had peculiar pleasure in hear
ing those persons relate the exercises of their minds.
When night came on, we felt some reluctance in parting.

In the evening I retired for secret devotion, and was
very happy in the employment, and felt more and more
confirmed in my judgment, that the change I had expe-
rienceci was a real conversion. And when subsequently
perceiving that I did possess the least degree of inclina
tion to practice, m any one instance, the sins to which I
had been formerly addicted, I rejoiced in the anticipa
tion of living a life devoted entirely to the service of God,
whose mercy towards me had been so great, in delivering
me from the power of sin, and giving me such peace and
joy in believing. Whenever I thought of what had
transpired at Limerick, and of that little group of heaven
born souls, (as I esteemed them,) the following words of
Watts would occur to my mind.

" To Zion's sacred chambers, wh ere
M soul first drew the vital <tir."

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 169

They were to me the excellent of the earth, nor was
I unmindful of my promise to them. But before the
next week arrived, my friends, Lord and Mills, were
so desirous to see me, and to ascertain how I was get
ting along, that they came on the next Sabbath to our
meeting. I believe we were equally happy in meeting
each other; and in my turn I visited them, and spent a
night, and we were happy in each other's company; pas
sing much of our time in prayer and praise to God. On
my return from Limerick, I called on Humphrey Chad-
bourn, Esq. who then lived in the south west corner of
Cornish. He was recently from Berwick, and an elder
in the Rev. Mr. Mariam's church. Mr. Mariana was
one of the most evangelical ministers of the Congrega
tional church in that region.

This aged and eminent saint, was, by almost every
one who knew him, denominated "old elder Chad-
bourn." He had two sons who were Baptist preachers,
viz. Levi and William. I had been previously acquaint
ed with this old pilgrim, while he lived in Berwick, and
had great confidence in him. He was indeed one of the
most eminent Christians of the age. He was very af
fectionate; and in his address very interesting — he had
been a professor, I think, more than fifty years. He
gave me some account of the early exercises of his mind
on the subject of religion; told several interesting anec
dotes; and rendered himself very agreeable to me. To
wards the close of the evening, "Andrew," said he, "1
account it my privilege to have you pray in the fami
ly: I will leave it with you to pray either this even
ing or in the morning." This gave me a severe shock,
and I begged to be excused; but he could not consent
to release me.

I had prayed but once in the presence of any person,
and it was an exceeding heavy trial to think of praying
in the presence of this old gentleman and his family. I
therefore deferred the task until morning; but it occa
sioned me some wakeful hours that night: I was alter
nately exercised with hopes and fears until the morning,
and 1 retired for secret prayer. I plead with the Lord
to strengthen rne to perform this duty, and when the
15

170 MEMOIRS OF

time arrived, I commenced with fear and much trem
bling: but my fears very soon vanished, and I found
great freedom in this solemn service; and I took leave
of the old gentleman and his family, with geat compos
ure of mind. As 1 returned home, being on foot, I had
to go some distance through a wood not much frequent
ed; and being sufficiently retired, I sat down to reflect.
No mortal eye could behold me, but I viewed the
eye of Omnipotence to be upon me. I inquired,
ami indeed a child of God? am I a real Christian?
Then my life is just begun. But is this certain beyond
a doubt? How am I to know that I shall be saved at
last ? That an important change had taken place in me7
1 could not doubt. I knew that I detested sin, and that
I felt a love to God, so far as I knew him; and that I
fejt in my heart, good will to men.

I endeavored to take a view of my life, and could not
but admire the good hand of providence that protected
and guided me all my days. I was astonished that I
had been preserved, when so many of my shipmates had
fallen a prey to death. I reviewed the two years of
painful anxiety I had felt, inconsequence of my lost and
condemned condition. I wondered at the forbearance
of heaven towards so polluted a wretch as I had been;
and I thought I ielt truly grateful to God for his long
suffering towards me, and especially for the rich dis
plays of his pardoning rnercy to my soul.

While thus reviewing the scenes of life, some of my
partner? in iniquity came into my view. I had no rea
son to think they were converted; and I was conscious
that in many instances I had prompted them to sin; and
that 1 had been a ringleader in iniquity. I felt my bow
els yearn for them, and could not but plead with God
that he would save them. I could have given worlds,
had they been at my disposal, if 1 had never occasioned
others to sin.

At this time the doctrine of election carne to my mind,
and I felt constrained to give il an investigation. This
doctrine had very much troubled me, yea,~even disgust
ed me, as I have already mentioned. I could never
really disbelieve it; but I was vexed that the scriptures
^hould contain such a doctrine. I could not now com-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 171

prehend it, but had no murmuring in my heart against
it. From this 1 was led to contemplate the being and
nature of Deity; and with reverence and humility, re
flected on his attributes and works, until 1 was lost in
astonishment. The language of Zophar, in Job xi, 7,
10, would well apply in this case: "Canst thou by
searching find out God? canst ihou find out the Amigh-
ty to perfection? It is as high as heaven, what canst
thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? The
measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader
than the sea. If he cut off and shut up, or gather to
gether, who can hinder him.? And that saying also of
Paul's; "For the invisible things of him from the crea
tion of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by
the things that are made, even his eternal power and
Godhead." Romans i, 20.

The substance of those scriptures I believe was at
that time impressed on my mind by the power of the Ho
ly Spirit. 1 was laid low at the foot of divine sovereign
ty, and was enabled to leave all with God, and pray for
his protection and direction. 1 rejoiced that I felt recon
ciled to God, in the enjoyment of a peace that the world
had never given me. Having spent some time in this
lonely retreat, I thought proper to pursue my journey.
I walked slowly, tranquil, and alone; but again those
who had been my contemporaries in sin, came up to my
mind. It appears to me, that if a brother should see a
brother, or a parent a child, doomed to perpetual slavery
or the gallows, they could not feel more anxiety for their
release, than at that time I felt for the salvation of my
fellow sinners. As 1 was pursuing my way homeward,
before I was aware of the train of my thoughts, I was, in
imagination, addressing an assembly on the importance
of religion, and had gone some length before I detected
mysel£ 1 then felt disposed to chide myself, as being
on forbidden ground; and endeavored to employ my mind
on some other subject; but before I was aware, my mind
had drifted on to the same ground again. This occa
sioned me some trial, and led me to endeavor to suppress
every thing of this nature. It was some trial that this
subject would occur to my mind in my secret devotions

172 MEMOIRS OF

No portions of my time passed more satisfactorily,
than those which were employed in secret prayer. I
believe I may say for weeks, at least I may say ior many
days together, I met with no embarrassment in this im
portant exercise.

As I write altogether from memory, (and that I find
to be very much impaired,) I cannot be so particular as
I could wish. I soon found trials and perplexities, that
I never expected; consequently I was not prepared for
them. I lost that sweet frame of mind, and that ferven
cy before the throne, which I had not once suspected
would ever abate. But alas! I found my mistake. 1
found myself in darkness, and sinking in despondency.
I had scarcely confidence sufficient to come before the
throne of grace, and the greatest desire I had to see
Christians, was to inform them that I was a hypocrite;
and that so far as they had entertained any favorable
hopes of me, they were also deceived. In my own judg
ment, I had made no higher attainment in the Christian
religion, than a way-side or stony-ground hearer; and I
very much regretted that it was noised abroad thaf'Sher-
burne was converted." I seemed, most of all, to regret
that my Limerick friends were so much deceived; and
felt myself under special obligation to go and see them,
for the express purpose of undeceiving them, and actu
ally set out for that end, with a determination that noth
ing should divert me from my purpose.

I went a mile or two out of my way, to see Levi Chad-
bourn, (supposing that the old elder was at that time in
Berwick.) I found him at work in his field, and readily
told him my condition and my business. He observed
that it was in vain to go to Limerick on such an errand;
that they would not believe me; that it was noised ail
round the country, and that it was of no consequence to
try to make people believe otherwise. He thought it
not strange, however, for young converts to have such
fears, and that Satan insinuated such things in their
minds. He prevailed with me to go to the house and
stay all ni°;ht, (as it was near sun down,) and have some
talk with his father, who had lately returned from Ber
wick. To this I consented; for however little I thought
of my own piety, I had a high value for Christians.

.I(U-H 4 IS «

Just as we reached the house, Wenworth Lord, an

ANDREW SHERBURXE.

other Baptist preacher, called there. He nrade but a
short stop, but took opportunity to talk a little with me;
he having heard something of my case. He seemed
anxious to comfort me; and in parting with me, he in a
very solemn and impressive manner repeated a part of
the 77th hymn of the 2d book of Watts,

"Stand up my soul, shake off* thy fears,
And gild the gospel armor on."

This seemed to relieve my mind a little; but I was yet
in great darkness. Levi having given his father some
account of my situation, after we were seated, the old
gentleman began to make some inquiries of me why 1
had made it up in my mind that I was a hypocrite. I told
him my simple story, and waited for some reply. The
old gentleman observed that it was many years since he
entertained a hope in Christ, and he could not say but
that he had more than once suspected himself to be a
hypocrite. "I have long since concluded," said he,
•'that hypocrites were very dishonest people, and that
they wished to deceive. 1 must therefore confess, An
drew, that if you are a hypocrite, you are, in my judg
ment, as honest a hypocrite as I ever saw.1'

He then went on to make a number of appropriate re
marks and observations; such as that the Christian's
journey through this world was a warfare, and that it was
through much tribulation they were to enter the kingdom ;
and that if need be, they should be in heaviness through
manifold temptations, for the trial of their faith, &c. &c.
He also recited many of the promises contained in the
scriptures, for the encouragement of the weak and tempt
ed. In a word, he was the good Samaritan, pouring in
oil and wine. After this interview, I indulged a hope
that I was not a hypocrite in this matter, although I might
be but a way-side or a stony ground hearer. I was con
fident I had feigned nothing in this thing. The reader
will easily discover how dark was my understanding in
regard to hypocrisy. On the next day, (being the Sab
bath,) I accompanied Levi Chadbourn to Limerickj
where he was to preach that day.
15*

174 MEMOIRS OF

Without hesitation, I gave my friends a particular ac
count of what had passed within me. They all appeared
to sympathize with me, and were forward to encourage
and strengthen me. I tarried all night and most of the
next day with them. We had a pleasant interview, and
I found my mind in some measure relieved from the em
barrassments under which, ibr some time, 1 had been la
boring; but I never again attained to such an uninter
rupted joy and consolation, as 1 at fnst enjoyed, for sev
eral weeks together. I diligently improved my time in
reading, (especially the bible,) attending meetings, and
conversing with Christian friends. I paid an especial
attention to preaching ; and when meditating alone, would
frequently, ere I was aware, find myself in imagination
addressing an assembly.

It would generally depress my spirits, when I realized
what my thoughts were upon. Eventually, I discovered
a strange conflict in my own mind. I sometimes feared
that I should be compelled "to preach to the people,"
but I felt as incompetent to the task, as one would feel to
discharge a debt of thousands of dollars with merely a
small handful of change. At other times, I would secret
ly wish to be engaged in that delightful employment.
My impressions at that time were, that no one couid,
without the utmost presumption, engage in that service,
unless he had evidence as certain of his being called of
God, as he hadofpossessing the sense of seeing or hearing.

This subject would almost constantly come into my
mind, when I attempted to pray in secret; and I have of
ten prayed to God that he would prevent such thoughts.
I have often suspected that Satan presented them to my
mind. Whatever spirit it might be that dictated them,
they were certainly, on these occasions, unwelcome to
me; but I did not dare to communicate those thoughts
to any friend whatever. For a time, I thought all my sin
ful propensities were subdued; but I now discovered my
mistake, for I was harrassed with the fear of man, and I
readily discovered that I should not be troubled with this,
if pride was entirely dislodged from my heart. 1 discov
ered by degrees, that t had to contend with all those sins
under which I had previously been held in bondage. I

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 175

could, without hesitation say, with the apostle Paul, " that
in me (that is in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing;" and
with the prophet Jeremiah, u that the heart is deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked." 1 found that
if 1 would live a godly life, I must wrestle against princi
palities, and powers, and spiritual wickedness in high pla
ces. I endeavored to watch with care, and pray in sin
cerity ; and yet, on examination, I found myself remiss
in those important duties: and yet I could not dives-t my
self of impressions about preaching. I sometimes re
gretted that I was so deficient in education; — again I
would query whether if 1 had an education, 1 might not
adventure to go forward without being called of (Jod, as
was Aaron; for it appeared to me, at that time, that it
was next to the unpardonable sin for one to engage in
that office, unless ne were absolutely called of God.

It was about two months after I entertained a hope,
say about the middle of November, 1789, I experienced
a most distressing trial. "An horror of great darkness
fell upon me." 1 was exceedingly dejected, and I very
much feared that 1 was altogether deceived in regard to
my state. I could not compose my mind to read or to
pray; and for a while I wandered from place to place as
one half distracted. At length I went into the barn, went
up on the top of the hay, which was considerably above
the beam, and in this retired situation I endeavored to
examine myself. I prayed for the kind interposition of
the Holy Spirit, to teach me what I was, and what he
would have me to do; and even in chisglooomy and rest
less condition, I had perplexities in my mind respecting
preaching. I seemed to myself to be one of the most
inconsistent of all beings; for I was at this time doubtful
whether I was a Christian.

Having spent some hours in prayers and tears, with
out any satisfactory relief, I went to the house, and hav
ing occasion to minute something in my account book, I
took up my pen, and having written what I intended, there
being a half sheet of loose paper lying in my book, a
question arose in my mind whether I could, without hes
itation, write a verse of poetry. The thought was im
mediately urged upon my mind whether, if I could write

176 ME3IOIRS OF

a verse without stopping to reflect, and that the matter
should be sound and consistent in my own judgment, i
should take it for an evidence that I was a Christian ? —
but I dared not to pitch upon this mode. I feared that it
was rather tempting the Lord. I thought, however, of
Gideon's fleece; and I felt almost impatient to make the
attempt.

I wrote a verse very readily, and stopped a moment
to examine it. I thought it consistent and sound, and 1
was pleased that I had not rested the decision of my case
upon it, as it might be but by accident I had written it.
1 then queried whether I could write another: I pro
ceeded and wrote until night overtook me.

At the time to which I refer, a young man who could
read tolerably well without spelling, (accent, emphasis,
cadence and punctuation out of the question,) write a le
gible hand and cypher through the double rule of three,
was considered as having had a good education; and in
deed the number thus educated was comparatively small,
except in the more populous towns and villages. To
such an education I had also added some knowledge of
geometry.

At that time, a knowledge of English grammar was
not considered a prerequisite for a teacher of our com
mon country schools. I had therefore an opportunity of
being employed in a school at Limerick, in the winter of
1789 — '90. I had then just entered my twenty-fifth
year. It was peculiarly pleasant to be situated among
my particular friends in this town.

About this time Hart's Hymns were put into my
hands. One of these hymns, on the subject of pride,
much excited my attention, and the following lines more
particularly.

" Against its influence pray ;

It mingles with the prayer ;

Against it preach ;. it prompts the speech ;

Be silent, still its there.

This moment, while I write,

T feel its power within,

My heart it draws to seek applause,

And mixes all with sin."

ANDREW 3HEREURNS. 177

I ascertained that great and good men were not alto
gether free from pride, in their own estimation. I thert-
ibro need not think it strange, if 1 still discovered its re
mains in my own heart.

While I was engaged in this school at Limerick, an
aifecting circumstance occurred in the neighborhood. A
Mrs. Gilpatrick, the wife of Joseph Gilpatrick, Esq.
went to bed at the usual hour, in health. Some time in
the night, she awoke, rose up in her bed, and said to her
husband, " I am dying !" arid expired immediately.

Death in such a country, where the people are com
paratively few, excites much more general sympathy than
death in a more populous region. Mrs. G. was of an
amiable character, and was much lamented. The la
mentations of her family and connexions at the funeral,
were such as do not often occur.

This circumstance induced me to write a number of
verses, addressed to Esquire G. and his children. I have
since, on different occasions, written a few verses, but I
must confess that when I review them, they in general
appear so defective, and as there is an abundance of good
poetry in circulation, that my mind sickens at the thought
of presenting them to the public. I am very confident
that they cannot afford much gratification to persons of
refined taste and education, and yet I am aware that
there may be a certain class of readers to whom such
productions would be more acceptable, and probably as
instructive as the productions of learned and flowery
writers.

A learned speaker or writer may probably assure him
self that if his writings or addresses are exhibited in such
a style as to be fully understood by the more unlearned
readers or hearers, he will not be as much admired by a
very large proportion of the learned.

It will be granted, I presume, that the number is far too
small, who, regardless of the applause or flatteries of their
fellow worms, or their own reputation, are willing to en
dure frowns and censure for the truth's sake. We well
know that man is an aspiring being, and we know also
that our bounds are set, and that we cannot pass them.
Whatever, therefore, may have been our attainments in

i?3 MEMOIRS OF

literature, fume, riches or grace, it will be no injury to us
to look astern on our wake, aod notice what we were ten,
twenty, or forty years ago.

The apostle Paul, alter he had made great acquisi
tions in wisdom and humility, recollected that when
he was a child, he spake as a child, he understood
as a child, and thought as a child; nor did he for -
get that he had been injurious to the cause of Jesus
Christ, that he had kept the raiment of those who stoned
Stephen to death, that he had persecuted the saints in
every synagogue, and had caused many of them to blas
pheme.

With the apostle, doubtless, those several circum
stances were so many incentives to humility and self-
abasement before his God, as long as he lived.

But I discover that I am steering wide from my orig
inal design. I had at first purposed to say all that I
should say of myself, in about two hundred pages, 12mo.
but 1 have already written considerably more than one
hundred and fifty pages, and there yet being near forty
years of my life to narrate, I perceive that I must be
more concise, or I shall swell my book much beyond my
first intention.

To return to my narrative: I should have observed
that before I commenced my school in Limerick, I
made a journey to Portsmouth, to see my mother, sisters
and other relatives. I had seen none of them; nor had
I made any communication to them since I had enter
tained a hope that I was converted.

I was not vet baptized, but was an advocate for im
mersion. I could not but communicate to them the rea
son of my hope, and I trust with " meekness and fear."
But it seemed to them like an idle tale. Most of them
were disgusted with my principles.

I visited the family of my uncle, Samuel Sherburne,
on the plain which I have before mentioned. I had al
ways felt a peculiar veneration for this place, which had
been the residence of so large a number of my ancestors,
whose remains were deposited in an extensive family
burying-ground, on my uncle's land near his house. My
father's remains were brought from the town and depos-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 179

itcdhere a few years before, while I was a captive in
Charleston, S. C.

Here I had a number of cousins, both male and fe
male, about my age, who had always treated me with
peculiar affection, and who with profound attention and
deep sympathy, had formerly heard me narrate the par
ticulars of my voyages, imprisonments, &c. .But at this
time, I could not join them in that hilarity which had
heretofore marked our pleasant interviews. It was deep
ly impressed on me to tell them frankly what a state my
mind had been in, and what I trusted the Lord had
done for my soul. They sat aghast for a while, but
when they ascertained that I was in sentiment a Bap
tist, they seemed to regret that I was inclined to depart
from the tradition of my fathers.

In my uncle Furbur's family, with which I had been
equally intimate, I met about the same reception. There
was not at that time, to my knowledge, a single Baptist
member in all the town of Portsmouth or any of the ad
jacent towns; I was therefore a kind of phenomenon
among my friends and acquaintance.

I have the happiness, however, to hope that the great
est past of those families, my own included,) have since
that time become real Christians; but a large proportion
of them have gone the way " from whence no traveller
returns."

A part of my business at Portsmouth was to visit Miss
Jane Muchamore, to whom I had paid my addresses for
several years, and should have married her long before
this time, had it not been for our poverty. Her father,
Mr. Nathaniel Muchamore, died about the time that
my father died. He had been in easy circumstances,
but misfortunes, together with his lingering in consump
tion a number of years, reduced his family to poverty.

His widow was a pious woman; she was one of
Whitfield's conveits. She was a member of the first
Congregational church, of which Samuel Haven, D. D.
was at that time pastor. In mv previous visits, while I
was under conviction, I had discovered something of
my feelings to this good old lady and her daughter; it
seemed to be highly gratifying to the old lady, but her

180 MEMOIRS OF

daughter, like Gallio, cared for none of these tilings,
But on this visit 1 found that Jane was under great anx
iety of mind; a circumstance, which to her mother and
myself was very pleasant.

My brother Samuel, (who had been at work by the
month, in Cornish,) and myself had resolved to remove
my mother and the smaller children into the country.
House rent and fire wood saddled a heavy bill on us and
kept us poor. We accordingly took her into the coun
try which was much to our advantage.

In the spring of the year 1 790, after I had finished my
school in Limerick, and before the spring work com
menced, I made a circuitous journey to Portsmouth,
through Epping, Exeter, New Market, and Strotham.
In several of those towns there had been recent revivals
of religion; and I was desirous to form some acquain
tance with the young converts. I had a number of very
pleasant interviews with babes in Christ, and older pro
fessors, and found my mind considerably strengthened.
When I came to Portsmouth, I was extremely gratified
to find there was a revival in that place. It was prin
cipally confined to the Rev. Joseph Walton's society;
his church enjoyed some of the most edifying meetings
in this place, I had ever realized.

I crossed the ferry into Kittery, where another revival
had recently commenced. In this place I spent about
two days in going from house to house, accompanied by-
young converts who appeared to be zealously engaged
in their Master's cause. These were happy days with
me. We parted with our feelings much excited, com
mending each other to God and, the word of his grace.

As I journeyed homeward, on foot and alone, I re
viewed the pleasing seasons I had passed, and I was
much gratified in my interview.

In Juno, 1790, I attended the New-Hampshire asso
ciation. This was the first association I had ever attend
ed. I had the gratification of hearing the venerable
Dr. ITezokiah Smith, whose preaching so much affect
ed me in Cornish.

The people in Kittery made application to the associ
ation for some supply in preaching; and Elder Simon
Locke was appointed to visit them in August.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 181

My health was so poor that season, that I could do
but little work, and I proposed to accompany elder Locke
to Kittery, and to make a visit to Portsmouth.

I will now bring to view several subjects which occa
sioned me much perplexity, viz. baptism, close com
munion, the Lord's supper, and preaching.

I had paid such particular attention to the ]NTew Tes
tament, on the subject of baptism, that I was perfectly
satisfied that none were proper subjects of this ordi
nance, but such as believed in Jesus Christ to the sav
ing of their souls, and were capable of answering a good
conscience toward God. When I inquired of myself
why I did not go forward, I many times screened my-
self under a doubt whether I was a real Christian; and
even when such doubts subsided, yet the cross was so
great, that it seemed I could not possibly do my duty,
without some powerful impulse of the mind. But in re
gard to the manner, there was no question.

As yet I had riot as particularly investigated the sub
ject of communion as I had that of baptism. I devoted
myself to the sudy of this subject, and was satisfied that
it was an ordinance of Christ, which Christians should
practice,- In respect to close communion, although the
scriptures said nothing expressly on the subject, I could
not but question whether any had a right to partake of
the Lord's supper, until they were immersed. I could
not conceive that Baptists were the only real Christians,
as I was fully satisfied that there were Congregational-
ists who were as really pious, as were the Baptists.
With other denominations I had no acquaintance.

With regard to preaching, it was a matter not yet to
be decided: whether it will ever be decided in time, I
shall not now undertake to say.

Having ascertained from elder Locke, the time he
would start for Kittery, I called on him the day previous
to his starting, in order to have his company. I had a
very pleasant interview with him and his amiable con
sort.

On the morrow we commenced our journey to Kitte
ry Point, where he was to preach on the following day,
which was the Sabbath. Here we ascertained that
16

182 MEMOIRS OF

there were a number of candidates for baptism. I left
him at Kittery Point and took passage to Portsmouth;
and to my inexpressible joy, I found Miss Jane Mucha-
more a bright and happy convert. Her mother had
comparatively renewed her youth, as the eagles. I be
lieve we enjoyed unsullied Christian communion, but I
was so much attached to elder Locke and the converts
at Kittery, that I must spend the Sabbath with them, and
accordingly I returned to Kittery on Sabbath morning.
It was concluded to have the ordinance of baptism on
Monday, and the meeting was appointed at 31 r. E.
Hutchkins'.

His brother, Mr. S. Hutchkins, was one of the princi
pal citizens of Portsmouth, and one of Mr. Walton's so
ciety. I having returned to Portsmouth on Sabbath ev
ening, and given notice of the intended meeting on
Monday, Mr. H. had the politeness to have a boat and
hands to row it, and take his daughter, Miss Mucha-
more, who was now a member of Mr. Walton's church,
and myself, to Kittery, to attend this meeting.

While Mr. Locke was preaching, I felt my mind very
powerfully impressed with the idea, that it was my duty
tq be baptized. The impression was so powerful that I
was confident I must speak as soon as there was an op
portunity.

He had no sooner closed his sermon, than I arose.
I felt as if I had authority from God to speak unto the
people. I was much animated, and spoke with the ut
most ease, for the space of ten or filteen minutes. I
then told them what God had graciously done for rne
and offered myself for baptism.

When I commenced speaking, Miss M. according to
her own generous confession, felt as she supposed Mi
chael felt when David danced before the ark. Her feel
ings were exceedingly wounded because I had not ap
prised her of my design to be baptized; but indeed I had
not the remotest thought of it myself, until after Mr.
Locke had commenced his sermon.

Before I had done speaking, her prejudice was remov
ed; and when she saw me baptized, it so affected her
that she could not stand. Miss Hutchkins, Miss Much-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 183

I

amore. and many others in that congregation who had
never seen the ordinance administered before, after
wards became Baptists.

Having returned to P. the next day, we had a visit
from father Walton. The good man was quite unrec
onciled to what had taken place. He told me he be
lieved I was deceived, and that he expected I would
deceive Jane also. It may be thought that in our cir
cumstances, this must be somewhat unpleasant lo our
feelings.

I seriously gave him the reasons for my conduct.
He shortly became quite composed, gave us much good
instruction, exhorted us to adorn our profession, and
gave us his blessing.

I shortly after fell in company with deacon Moses, of
Mr. Walton's church. The old gentleman very deli
cately introduced the same subject: he said he expected
I would take Jane into the country with me among the
Baptists, and he intimated that he thought it likely that
my influence would induce her to become a Baptist also.
I had before this resolved never to use any influence, di
rectly or indirectly, to induce her to become a Baptist.
I told the deacon that this was my determination; that
I had myself been very much opposed to the Baptists,
and that no mortal's influence had ever induced me to
become a Baptist.

She shortly after this became my wife, and about five
years after she voluntarily became a Baptist, and was al
ways treated with marked attention by Mr. W. and his
church.

By this time I had purchased ten acres of good land,
had about half of it under improvement, and had made
some provision for building a small house; but my con
stitution was so enfeebled that I could not perform half
the labor that other men in general could. For three
summers in succession, I was laid up for a considerable
time in consequence of hard labor. I was also consid
erably in debt. Discouraging as these circumstances
were, my spirits in general were good; for contrasting
my condition with what it had before bcefi, while gather
ing muscles on the muscle ban]\s in, Charleston, -

184 MEMOIRS OF

ing my little bark on alee shore, on the coast of New
foundland, in a violent gale of wind — my perilous condi
tion among the breakers on the shore of Cape St. Mary's,
&c. I saw that 1 had abundant reason to be thankful.

I had a firm footing on the peaceful shores of indepen
dence and liberty, located in the midst of a friendly and
pious society, enjoying the confidence and possessing
the suffrages of my townsmen, and above all entertan-
ing a hope of eternal life through the merits of the Sav
ior. Yet while in the body, industry, enterprise, perse
verance and economy are requisite, in order that we
may be useful to ourselves and one another.

I finally succeeded in getting my mother and little
sisters under my own roof, covered with slabs. Our
meetings were holden in private houses; my doors were
opened, and it was my privilege to have preaching in
my house the first Sabbath day after we moved into it.
My mind had been some time tried in reference to fam
ily worship, for my mother was not at that time a pro
fessor of religion. I however commenced the exercise,
and the trial subsided.

I kept house with my mother several months before
I moved my wife home. By this time I had formed some
acquaintance in the adjacent towns, and as the
Baptists of that age and region, were much in
the habit of " assembling themselves together," and
" speaking often one to another," I enjoyed many
precious opportunities at their fire sides, though gener
ally in log cabins. Many of them, however, were more
comfortable than my unfinished frame building

There were some difficulties however, when thev call
ed on me to stay over night. My mother had but two
beds, and my wife but one. She had bedding, however,
sufficient for two, and we had a spare straw bed, which
we in cold weather, placed before a good fire, and our
guest would find himself perfectly accommodated. If
among our guests there were females, I could cheerfully
stretch myself on a straw bed, by the fire, and reflect
how much more comfortably situated I was than when
lying on the cold deck of the old Jersey, or in the filthy
bunks of her hospital ships.

ANDREW SHERBtTRN'EV I85>

I cannot easily express how much satisfaction I deriv- .
cd from such company, I was exceedingly fond of hav
ing preachers call on me, though desirous to he in cir
cumstances to afford them better accommodations.

1 much wished to set up an ashery, as there was none
very near me, and potash was in pretty good demand at
that time; but I had no capital to commence with. Jo-
siah Pearce, Esq. of Fiiritstown, (now Baldwin) a half
brother to the celebrated Count Rumford, was at that
time doing considerable business in the mercantile line.
He supplied me with goods; he was to be at half the ex
pense of the building, &c. and was to share the profits
with rne. We had the misfortune to break a number of
kettles, and make some bad debts. My circumstances
were such that I became a considerable debtor myself.

After a number of years, I having made acquaintance
in Portland, in consequence of a reformation- taking
place there, obtained goods on my own credit. I believe
I continued in this business nearly ten years, until I com
menced preaching in the year J801. As I have no doc
uments to assist my memory, I shall as concisely as is
practicable, bring up my history to the date last men
tioned.

My uncle Weyrnouth was one of the most influential
men in the place. He was always in my opinion partial
towards me, manifested great sympathy towards me in
consequence of my ill health, and seemed more disposed
to use his influence for my promotion to office in the
plantation or town, than to sustain those offices himself.
While the place was yet a plantation by the name of
Francisboro', there was a military company organized,,
and my uncle was chosen captain. I never possessed
much military taste after I went to sea, but to gratify
him, I accepted the station of first sergeant and clerk of
the company. This was the highest my military promo
tion ever reached; and this office I got rid of as soon as
circumstances would admit; for after having the offices
of town clerk and one of the select men conferred on me,
I was exempt from military duty. Indeed my uncle had
no military taste, he accepted the captaincy rather from
necessity than from choice, and resigned as soon as he
could, 16*

186 MEMOIRS OF

With proper reflections we may see that a gracious
and wise Providence often causes much good to grow
out of an evil. Had I not been drawn or carried through
the distressing scenes which I have already related, and
been lodged in Old Mill prison, I had probably never ac
quired an education sufficient to have sustained those
offices, and to have performed the business which has
proved so profitable to me.

I am inclined to think that there is not one instance in
a hundred, if there is one in ten thousand, in which after
a lad arrives to the age of seventeen, entirely without a
knowledge of the arts of writing and arithmetic, he ever
attains to those arts.

I will notice a circumstance which eventually operated
much in my favor. The county of York was the oldest
county in Maine, and at the time I first went into the
country, it extended probably eighty miles from the sea
into the country. The court house and jail were in the
extreme southwest angle of the county, in the town of
Old York, within a mile of the sea., and about nine miles
from Portsmouth, N. H. To the south west of a right
line from York to Portsmouth, is a triangular piece of
land, extending southerly, (including a part of York and
a part of Kittery) ten or fifteen miles, bounded on the
west by the Piscataqua river, and on the east by that
part of the ocean called Wells' Bay.

As the country was increasing rapidly in population,
and the public buildings were decaying, it was foreseen
that public buildings must shortly be erected either in
York or some other place.

A considerable number of the most influential persons
in the county addressed a circular to the several towns,
inviting them to appoint delegates to meet at Berwick,
to take into consideration the interest of the county in
regard to the public buildings. The town of Cornish
appointed me as their delegate, but restricted me with
respect to the county site. Most of the large towns
sent three or four delegates; a number of other towns as
well as Cornish, restricted the power of their represen
tatives in their instructions.

When convened, there were probably sixty in number,

ANDREW SHERBURiXE. 187

including a considerable number of the most respectable
civil and military officers in the county. General John
Frost, late of the revolutionary army, was called to the
chair, and Daniel Sewall, Ksq. clerk of the county court,
was appointed Secretary.

I presume I was the youngest person in the company,
and an entire stranger to almost every one present, and
being sensible of my want of experience and talents, I
resolved that my communications should be restricted to
" yea, yea, nay, nay."

It was natural to suppose that the delegates from
York and its vicinity, would do all they could to keep
the courts at York, but it was soon discovered that we
had a party also for Kennebunk, another for Bruns
wick, a fourth for Alfred, and a fifth for Waterborough.
Moreover some of the members being restricted, as has
been already mentioned, it was easy to see that nothing
could be done at present, to give any thing like general
satisfaction.

It was an object, however, for the several parties to
sound each others' intentions. Some {rentlemen endeav
ored to mature the business, while others were for pro
crastinating every proposal which was made. A Mr. N.
who had been an officer in the army, and more recently
a member of the Legislature, was extremely loquacious.
He frequently contended that this or the other measure
was " unparliamentary ." I was sufficiently vexed at
this gentleman's criticisms and sophistry, and was very
anxious that some one more capable than myself should
make some reply to his quibbles.

To me it appeared, that there had been much time al
ready wasted, and feeling an especial responsibility to my
constituents, and a wish to secure their confidence, and
being wearied with Mr. N's. long and continued speech
es, I thought I would make an attempt to bring our dis
cussions to a close.

I therefore arose and addressed the chair, observing
to the President, that to me it appeared we were not at
tending strictly to the business for which we had been
convened, that I came there with the impression that
our only business was (if we could agree,) to fix upon a

188 MEMOIRS OF

suitable site for our county buildings. That the thought
had never entered my mind that any part of our business
was to decide upon " parliamentary" measures; I thought
we had been sufficiently oppressed by such measures,
and did not feel any great degree of deference towards
them, and as we had become independent of them, it
was to be lamented, if we could not transact the business
then before us, without spending so much time in listen
ing to the gentleman who last spoke, in learning what
was or what was not "parliamentary;" but that inas
much as in my instructions from my constituents I was
restricted, and this being the case with a number of oth
er members, I thought it was requisite that we should
dissolve or adjourn to some future period.

These observations eventually led to a resolution to
address a circular to the inhabitants, and to adjourn to
the same place. The zeal and decision manifested in
making the foregoing observations, excited the attention
of the members generally, and some more especially, as
I shall have occasion to mention hereafter.

I am aware that by this time the reader will be inclin
ed to conclude that the writer has paid himself a com
pliment. 1 readily acknowledge that it is not always
prudent, or perhaps safe, for a person to speak or write
his own feats or performances, but according to Frank
lin, it is a peculiar trait in the character of old men. As
the writer has gone far down the declivity of life, he
would request his readers to admit this circumstance as
his apology. I venture to say that it is rather difficult
for one who writes a narrative of himself, when he re
views the great variety of circumstances which have at
tended him in the space of forty or fifty years, if he pos
sesses but a moderate degree of sensibility, to avoid say
ing more of himself than is strictly compatible with his
own feelings, and he will most probably appear, at least,
in some degree, as an egotist in the view of others.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 189

CHAPTER IX.

Engages to survey a, township — First son born — Narrow
ly escapes drowning in Mad river — Lotted out the town
ship of Success in N. H. — He is Agent for the Bap
tists in Limington — Becomes acquainted with Dr.
Baldwin — Baptist petition not granted — Baptists and
others succeed in obtaining relief — Manner of carry
ing on meetings — Reformation in Portland— -Trials
about Preaching.

To return to my narrative: The acquaintance which
I formed with the principal persons of the county, through
the medium of this convention, occasioned my appoint
ment by an order of the court, to survey several tracts of
land, the titles of which were in dispute in the county
courts; I was also appointed an agent of one of the prin
cipal proprietors of the town.

All these circumstances I viewed as so many acts of
divine Providence, in my favor; as my constitution was
so impaired that I could perform but little manual labor,
the emoluments arising from those little offices, in some
measure supplied that defect.

My brother and myself found it to our advantage in re
moving my mother and sisters from Portsmouth to the
country. After a few years, the girls were able to sup
port themselves; we were nevertheless embarrassed in
our circumstances.

We found it difficult to raise money to pay for our
land. I had yet several sisters in Portsmouth, one was
married. My mother became discontented, as aged peo
ple generally are when removed to a strange place.

I was therefore under the necessity of providing a
horse and taking her to Portsmouth. At the time", I
thought this a hardship; but a kind Providence overruled
it very much to my advantage; it being at a season of the
year when our work in the country demanded attention.
I then did not calculate to make a visit of more than a
day or two at the most.

I happened to fall in company with Mr. Joseph Akar-

190 MEMOIRS OF

man, a respectable citizen of Portsmouth, with whom I
lind but little acquaintance. This gentleman seemed to
feel himself much interested in my welfare, was inquisi
tive to know how I employed myself in the country, &.c.
Amongst other employments, 1 mentioned that occasion
ally I had a job of surveying. Mr. A, observed to me
that he was a proprietor in a township of land in the inte
rior of the State, (viz. IN. H.) that the proprietors must
shortly have it laid out in lots, and that Col. S. Sher-
burne, Capt. I. Salter, and himself, were a committee ap
pointed by the proprietors for this purpose. He thought
I had better call on those gentlemen, observing, that if
they were agreed, he should be willing that I should
have the job. In short, I agreed with them to lay out
the township called Success, into one hundred acre lots.
This township lies twenty miles north of the White Hills,
and is bounded on the east by the State of Maine. This
was a serious undertaking for me, but there was no time
to be lost.

It was expedient that I should make a journey of sixty
or seventy miles into the town of Shelburn on the An-
droscoggin river, and laying directly south of Success, to
procure provisions and make preparation for commen
cing the business. On the 12th September, 1795, my
first son was born: he was named John Elliot.

As soon as 1 could conveniently leave my family, I
commenced the journey. In ascending the Androscog-
gin, orithe south side, I forded a number of streams which
tell into the river. The last dav's journey was generally
through a dreary wilderness; and the road, if it deserved
the name, was exceedingly bad. In Shelburn there
were but few inhabitants : — Moses Ingalls, Esq. and
Fletcher Ingalls, his brother, were the principal men of
the place. From both of those gentlemen I received many
signal favors. Their father, an aged and eminent saint,
lived with Fletcher. Having made the necessary ar-
ntnrrements with the Messrs. Ingalls', I set out for home;
but in crossing Mad river, I narrowly escaped with my
life. This river is sixty or eighty yards wide; its bed is
entirely composed of round smooth stones, of different
sizes, from two to six or eight inches in diameter. When.

ANDREW SHERBURNE,

191

I crossed this river a few days before, the water near each
shore was about a foot deep, but several rods in the mid
dle was entirely bare. There had been a heavy rain
while I was at Shelburn, but my friends thought there
would be no danger in crossing. On my return the bed
of the river was wholly covered. The water was nearly
four feet deep at the sides, and about two in the middle,
and so extremely rapid as to move the stones on the bot
tom. I had nearly crossed the first channel, when my
horse, although active and strong, stumbled and fell. I
had taken the precaution to release my feet from the stir
rups before I entered the water. I was thrown a little
forward of my horse into shallower water, and by grap
pling to his head, I soon recovered my feet. The horse
was unable to rise until I got foothold, among the stones
and held its head up stream; it then, without difficulty,
recovered its feet.

I then proceeded to the middle of the stream, where, as
I before observed, the water was shallowest; and having
halted a little to rest, I concluded to take my chance with
my horse, on my own feet. As I approached the eas
tern shore, the water deepened; but I braced myself
against the horse, who seemed to have improved from his
misfortune, and taking more slow and firm steps, reach
ed the eastern shore without further difficulty. Thus
was I once more graciously preserved from a watery
grave. Having ascended the bank of the river, I turned
and took a view of the rapid stream, and thought the
name given to it was very appropriate. Casiiug my eye
a little to the right, the noble Androscoggin, with its ma
jestic impetuosity, presented itself to my view, and caus
ed my very soul to shudder in view of the dangfr I had
escaped. This was the first instance of imminent dan
der 1 had realized since I left the sea; and I could not,
with but gratitude, adore that gracious God whose merci
ful providence had been so often exercised to save me
from the grasp of death.

On my return home, I found my family well, and I im
mediately engaged my brother Samuel for an axe man,
Mr. B. Estes and Mr. J. Wormwood for chainmen, and
repaired to the wilderness and commenced my survey.

192 MEMOIRS OF

Mr. Ingalls conducted us to the southeast corner of Suc
cess, which was also the northeast corner of Shelburn,
and about six miles distance from his house. He was
the nearest inhabitant to the south, and there were none
on the north nearer than Canada. Our work daily car
ried us farther from the inhabitants.

It was our practice, at night, to fall a suitable tree,
against which to build a fire, and prepare a sufficient
quantity of fuel. At a proper distance from our fire, we
stuck down t\vo forked stakes, ten or twelve feet apart,
placed a stout pole into these stakes, and then fixed a
number of smaller ones on the first. The top ends ran
back from the fire, and laid on the ground. On these
we would place a quantity of hemlock brush, and lay a
quantity of the same on the ground for our bed; resting
on this brush, with our feet to a good fire, and covering
ourselves with blankets, we generally slept comfortably.

Our business was very fatiguing; it being so late in
the season that the streams were considerably swollen,
and the swamps quite wet. We had also to endure sev
eral storms of rain, and one of snow, which fell six inches
deep. This did not all disappear until the third or fourth
day after. When we accomplished our business, we
were nearly twenty miles from .Esq. Ingalls1.

It was a very dark day, and we were each of us entire
ly willing to retire from this gloomy wilderness. We
commenced our retreat early in the forenoon. It rain
ed all day, and we were each of us heavily loaded with
our camp equipage. We had entirely expended our
provisions, and had but a scanty breakfast that morning.
When night overtook us, we were within about five miles
of Mr. Ingalls', on the weather side of a mountain. It
was quite rainy, with a high wind, and we could no lon
ger find our way by our spotted trees. For a while we
got along slowly, by feeling the spots. One person
would stand by a spotted tree, while another person
would find a second, another a third, and so on. At
length wre concluded to strike up a fire, hut every thing
was so wet that it was very difficult. We happened to
find some birch bark, and made a torch by which we
traced the spotted line, until we descended from the

ANDREW SHERBURXE. 1975

mountain to pine land. We then lost our course, but
obtaining an abundance of excellent pitchwood, we
made our way by conjecture, for some time. At length
we became apprehensive that we were not pursuing the
proper route. On setting my compass, I found that we
were travelling nearly a north course, when we wished
to go south.

I then sent two of the men forward with torches, keep
ing them in range of each other; and kept the other to
light me, while I should occasionally set the compass.
Though we advanced slowly, this was preferable to lay
ing on the weather side of the mountain, in the
rain. At length we heard the barking of dogs, (by no
means an unpleasant sound,) and we shortly iound our
way to our friend Ingalls' house. It was about mid
night; the barking of the dogs, and our approaching the
house with several large torches, not a little alarmed
the family. The Esquire and his lady arose and paid
us every possible attention. Although Mrs. Ingalls was
not in health at that time, she insisted on waiting on us
herself. I can never forget their affectionate attention.

We were extremely tired and hungry; it was there
fore necessary that we should rest a day or two, before
we should pursue our journey homeward. In due lime,
we took an affectionate leave of these agreeable fami
lies, nor have I seen any member of them since. On
our arrival at home, we had the satisfaction to find all
well. It became necessary to make a plan and a return
to my employers. They expressed entire satisfaction,
and honorably paid me. After paying off all my bills, I
found I had made about two dollars per day, for each
day I had spent, including all my journeying on the oc
casion. I could not but view this circumstance as a
special act of Divine Providence in my favor.

At this period, the state of religion, as weJl as litera
ture, was very different from what it is now. When the
reformation, which I have before mentioned, took place
in Cornish, in 1787, there was nothing like a reformation
heard of in any part of the country, to my knowledge;
but in a few years after, reformations became quite com
mon in many parts of our land. The reformation which
17

194 MEMOIRS OF

commenced in Cornish, spread into the adjacent towns
of Limington, Limerick, Hiram, Baldwin and Parson-
Held, and several other towns. But there was neither a
Congregational nor Presbyterian preacher in either of
those towns, or in any other town within fifteen or twenty
miles of the place. The Congregationalists (for there
were no Presbyterians or Methodists in that section of
country at that time,) seemed rather indifferent towards
the reformation, or perhaps it may be as proper to say,
rather opposed.

Several years after the reformation in Cornish, a Con
gregational minister was settled in the adjoining town of
Limington, where a number of the members of the Bap
tist church of Cornish resided. There was also a con
siderable number of persons residing in Limington who
were Baptists in sentiment, and attended meeting in Cor
nish, but they were all, without exception, taxed to the
support of the Congregational minister in Limington.
This circumstance occasioned unpleasant feelings, and a
remonstrance against such proceedings; but it was to no
purpose. The Baptists, however, refused to pay the tax,
and when the year came about, the constable distrained
from them their property, and sold it at vendue, to pay
the ministerial taxes. This circumstance occasioned
great uneasiness in the town; and some of those who
were thus used, being acquainted with Judge Thatcher,
of Gorham, made application to him for counsel, and pro
cured him to draw a petition to the general court of Mas
sachusetts in their favor. (Maine at that time was un
der the Massachusetts government.) He was formerly a
Congregational preacher himself, but was possessed of
more candor than some others. There were about thirty
persons who signed the petition; the prayer of which was
to obtain an act of incorporation as a Baptist society.
They saw fit to employ me to present the petition. A
few years prior to this, there had been a Baptist church
constituted in Frysbury, in the county of York, twenty
miles to the north of Cornish. This church had recently
been taxed by the Congregationalists.

In Massachusetts Proper, about the year 1795, and
several years prior thereto, the Baptist churches in Barn-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 19".

stable and Harwich were grievously oppressed by the
Congregationalists. This induced the Warren Associa
tion, to which the Baptist churches in Boston belonged,
to appoint a committee to give counsel to the Baptist
brethren or churches, who might be oppressed by taxa
tion: — Mr., afterwards Dr. Baldwin, was one of this
committee.

On my arrival at Boston, in behalf of my Limington
friends, about the year 1799, I in the first place called
on Mr. Baldwin, (having a letter of introduction from
elder Wm. Bachelder,) whom I found to be one of the most
friendly and obliging persons I have ever met with. He
readily gave me all the assistance that lay in his power.
He introduced me to deacon Titcomb, of Newburyport,
and to Gen. Salem Town. Both of these gentlemen be
longed to the Senate, and were on the committee for in
corporations. He also introduced me to a number of
other gentlemen of the house. I presented the petition,
which was read in both houses, and committed to the
committee for incorporations. After I arrived in Boston,
I ascertained that Judge Fry, of Frysbury, who at that
time was a senator from the county of York, was em
ployed by the select-men of Limington to oppose the pe
tition which had been committed to my care; and I knew
that he was unfriendly to the Baptists.

By this time the Methodists began to increase in Mas
sachusetts. I found a gentleman attending the general
court, with a petition to defend a Methodist society: —
however we might differ in our religious tenets, our in
terest was one and the same, in regard to an incorpora
tion.

I have the impression that there had been a bill before
the house several years before, the object of which was
to place the several religious denominations upon an
equal footing; and I found that our applications for incor
porations were the means of reviving that bill. After
about two weeks, I had an opportunity of being heard
by the committee for incorporations. I merely stated
the matters of fact in regard to the petitioners, and plead
for their constitutional rights. Judge Fry also appear
ed, and with great vehemence, declaimed against an in-

196 MEMOIRS OF

dividual, of the petitioners, who was not a church mem
ber, however, of whom he had heard an ill report; and
represented the petitioners as a faction, who were oppo
sed to all wholesome government, &c. and that their ob
ject was only to get rid of paying ministerial taxes, i
observed to the gentlemen of the committee, (which con
sisted of two members from the Senate and three from the
house, that the thought had never entered my mind that
his honor would have taken such ground. I presumed
that he had no personal acquaintance with any one of
the petitioners; but that I was personally acquainted with
the greatest part of them, and knew a number of them to
be members of the Baptist church in Cornish. That
whatever defects there might be in the moral characters
of the honorable gentleman's employers, (and I was con
fident that they were not all without them,) we had on
ly to complain of their unjustly and unconstitutionally
taking away, and sacrificing our property, and pray for
protection.

The committee did not report in favor of the petition
ers, because they were confident that the general bill
would pass. I believe they recommended the passing
said bill as a substitute. I have the impression that the
bill passed the Senate, but am not confident. But I was
afterwards informed by Dr. Baldwin, that, in the Mouse
of Representatives, the yeas and nays were equally divi
ded upon the bill, and that the Speaker, (who, 1 think, was
Mr. Timothy Bigelow,) gave his vote against the bill.
I cannot say whether .Deacon Titcomb was a Congrega-
tionalist or a Presbyterian; he was, however, a gentleman
of unquestionable piety; and \vaswillingthat the Baptists
and other dissenters (from the standing order, so called,)
should enjoy equal privileges with himself. Gen. Town
was equally liberal. They did not think it necessary for
me to tarry longer, as they had no doubt that the bill
would pass. I was also informed by Dr. Baldwin, that
the Deacon very ably supported the bill in the Senate: —
he referred to me, as the agent of a society, who had
spent several weeks endeavoring to obtain an act of in
corporation; and ho was satisfied that the petitioners
ought to be relieved; and the only reason which induced

SHERBERXE: 197

the committee not to report in favor of an act of incorpo
ration, was because they had the expectation that the
bill would pass.

While in Boston I had a conference with Judge Wells,
who was the other Senator irom the county of York: he
agreed with me that the petitioners were oppressed. I
urged him, that in case the petition did not succeed, that
he would use his influence with the select-men of Lim-
ington not to tax the Baptists. I had no doubt he would
succeed. Whether he interfered, I cannot now say; but
I believe they were no longer taxed. In a few years af
ter this, there was a Baptist Church constituted in Lim-
ington, and they built a meeting-house and settled a min
ister.

In other places, however, the Congregationalists con
tinued to tax other denominations. This occasioned
many perplexing and vexatious law suits. In Falmouth,
in the district of Maine, in the year 1810, the Univer-
salists were engaged in a law suit with the Congregation
alists, for the purpose of recovering money that had been
taken from them by the latter. The decision of the Su
preme Court, in which the late Judge Parsons, Chief Jus
tice of the State presided, was, " That no society, except
those which were incorporated by law, could be entitled
to this privilege ;n viz. of drawing back their money again.
Immediately upon the news of this decision, a circular
address, signed in behalf of others, by Dr. Baldwin of
Boston, Mr. Williams of Beverly, and Mr. Bolles of
Salem, was distributed through the State,* together with
a petition, the subtsance of the prayer of which was the
general bill before mentioned. In the June session of"
1811, about thirty thousand citizens, many of whom were
Congregationalists, preferred their petition for this gen
eral bill. Eventually, relief was obtained; nor have I
heard of any oppression since.

Mr. John Chadbourn, who commenced preaching in
the time of the reformation, at Cornish, continued to
preach there a considerable part of the time for several
years: he then moved to Bethel, on the Androscoggin

* See Benedict's History of the Baptists, vol. I. pp. 447, 443, and
vol. II. pp. 432, 433, &c.
17*

193 MEMOIRS or

river, where he continued about a year. The reforma
tion had subsided, and the church seemed to decline.
We, however, continued out meetings, and had occa
sional preaching. Mr. Ebenezer P. Kinsman, from Wa-
terborough, who was afterwards ordained Pastor of the
liaptist church in Limerick, supplied us part of the time.

Mr. Chadbourn having returned from Bethel, was 01-
dained, but not particularly to the pastoral care of that
church; he however continued to preach there some
time, and then went to Limington.

We were again u as sheep without a shepherd." Mr.
Isaac Thompson and myself served the church as Dea
cons at that time, and with several other brethren, en
tered into an especial agreement to continue our meeting;
but we had many trials to endure. The church was in a
low cold state, and there were some divisions among us
in regard to doctrine. Mr. Timothy Barnes was a" chief
man among the brethren;" — he used occasionally to
speak in public, but he moved to Penobscot. Mr. Joseph
Smith, one of the most celebrated singers and teachers of
music in New- England, a Baptist brother, came from
Eppirig into the place with his family. Fie was after
wards appointed a Deacon in the church, and also be
came a preacher. Mr. Joseph Allen had a very edifying
gift in exhortation. The three last mentioned brethren
have long since been deposited in the silent grave.

Our manner of carrying on a meeting, was to sing a
hvmu or psalm, join in prayer, and then read a chapter
of the Scriptures, and any one who was disposed, made
observations from it. Occasionally we had an exhorta
tion, and when it came from deacon Thompson or broth
er Allen, it was both animated and animating. Mr. Noah
Jewett, of the Congregational church in Durham, N. H.
purchased one of the best estates in the town, and with
a large family moved in.

About this time the Free-will Baptists and Methodists
seemed disposed to occupy the ground, as we had no
preacher, and made a practice of holding their meetings
within call of ours; but there were, however, a consid
erable number who were not disposed to hear them. The
Methodists succeeded in forming a small class, but it was
dissolved in less than a year.

ANDREW SHERBUR.NE. 199

Mr. Je\vett, for a while, seemed inclined to take the
back ground; I believe, however, that his heart was as
much with us as a Po^do-Baptist's could be; and notwith
standing our close communion, as it is called, he was
soon led to discover that he had as much freedom in ex
ercising his gifts among us, as though he had been with
his own brethren ; for we freely invited him to take an
active part in our meetings, and felt the advantages of his
assistance. After a while, I felt inclined to bring him
into a conversation with me upon baptism, but he used
the same kind of policy with me that the celebrated John
Newton did with Dr. Thomas Scott. At length I frank
ly invited him to a conference upon the subject. He re
marked to me, that it was a question with him whether I
should produce any argument in favor of my principles
which he had not heard, and that for himself, he had no
expectation that he should produce any in his favor that I
had not heard, nor did he suppose we should either of us
derive any benefit from a talk on the subject. As he was
therefore not disposed to hoist his colors or run out his
guns, I was by no means inclined to fire into him, as a
sailor would say. I wished that I had not introduced
the subject; but he afterwards became a Baptist, and
was appointed a Deacon in the church, and became one
of her principal supporters. I will in this place narrate a
particular circumstance which occurred with us, the date
of which I do not now particularly remember.

On a thanksgiving day, we had had a meeting, although
we had no minister. It was the general practice in jVew
England for the young people to assemble in companies,
oa thanksgiving evenings, for dancing, but I believe it
never was a practice in Cornish. 1 believe, however,
that they visited in small parties for recreation; this was
practised also by the heads of families.

At the meeting on that day, I invited my brethren
Jewett, Allen, Thompson, and Ranlet,to spend the even
ing at my house. They ail attended, arid we passed the
evening in a sociable and friendly mariner until past nine
o'clock. When my guests were about to retire, I ob
served to them that it would be a privilege to have one o£
them pray with us before we parted: — all was silence for"

2t)0 MEMOIRS OP

a minute or t\vo. I observed that I had no choice, and
that I would gladly join with any one of them; but finally
they all declined. I then endeavored to urge it upon
one and another, but all to no purpose, and they each of
them urged it upon me; but as I was in my own house,
it seemed remote from common practice for me to at
tempt the performance. My conscience upbraided me,'
because I had not introduced the subject of religion in
our evening's conversation.

Each of these brethren had a similar confession to
make. My wife's mind had been burdened all the even
ing, in consequence of our omission, but she thought it
not her place to introduce the subject. I could not en
dure the thought of their leaving me without praying.
I therefore urged them again and again, but to no pur
pose.

Eventually, there was no alternative; — I must myself
attempt to pray.* I therefore commenced under a dis
tressing trial of mind, and 1 prayed under the necessity
of praying, after I had, with deep compunction of soul,
confessed my delinquency. I had no sooner closed than
another commenced, and he had no sooner ceased to
speak vocally to the great I AM, than a third engaged;
and finally we all prayed — we all wept — we all rejoiced.
We then all sat down as in an heavenly place, and spent
an hour as Christians ought to spend their time when
tagether. The next day we were desirous to know each
other's state of mind. We communicated to others how
it had been with us; — a happy revival ensued, and a re
formation commenced, in which a number were added
to the church.

About this time there was a reformation in Portland,
as I have before mentioned. If commenced with a few
persons who were not satisfied with the stated preachingt
in the town. They were Messrs. Benjamin Titcomb,
Thomas Beck, and Nathaniel Cross. They established

* Having since visited Cornish, and conversed with some of my
old friends, I am inclined to think that Mr. Jewett first engaged
in prayer.

t This was before the excellent Payson settled in Portland.

ANDREW SHERBURNE4\ \J J 201

.

meetings in their houses for a while, but generally at Mr.
Titcornb's. He afterwards became an acct
profitable Baptist preacher. Mr. Beck was afterwards
one of the deacons of the Baptist church in that place,
but Mr. Cross never became a Baptist; he however be
came a very active member of a Congregational church,
in which he had the happiness of seeing an extensive re
formation. I lived about thirty miles from Portland, but
my business often called me there, and [ became irifi-
mately acquainted with the three above named brethren.

I always called upon them when I went into the town,
and sometimes spent a Sabbath with them. They were
soon after joined by Benjamin llsley, since a deacon in
the church; Mark Harris, who has since been a mem
ber of the Senate of Massachusetts and also a represen
tative to Congress; William Beckett, a Baptist brother
from London, long since deceased; Ansel Lewis, and a
imniDer of others: finally, they have become a large and
respectable church, arid have now for their pastor Mr.
Thomas B. Ripley, from Boston. Mr. Titcomb is the
pastor of a large and flourishing church in Brunswick,
Me.

Until after deacon Smith and doacon Jewett joined
our meeting in Cornish, I was placed in very trying cir
cumstances; for if my brethren knew of my design to
be absent on the Sabbath, they would not meet togeth
er. We seemed inclined to lean on each other, and
whether they leaned more on me than I did on them, I
cannot say.

There were but three or four of us that took an ac
tive part in our meetings. There was a certain kind of
backwoods modesty about us, which induced us respect
ively to put each other forward, rather than to go forward
ourselves. It was frequently the case with me, that
when I read a chapter, there was some particular text
in it which lay with considerable weight on my mind. I
commonly made some general observations on the
chapter, but could not well avoid some particular explan
ations on that particular text that lay on my mind. I
was careful to avoid everything that had the appearance
of preaching.

202 MEMOIRS OF

Individuals of our own, and of other churches, had
from time to time given it as their opinion, that Sher-
burne would be a preacher: and some had even urged
it upon me. I dare not say that I did not secretly wish
to be a preacher, but I was disposed to hold myself at an
awful distance from that sacred office. I felt as if it
was next to the unpardonable sin for a creature to at
tempt that employment, if God had not absolutely call
ed him to the work; and I also indulged the idea, that if
God called a creature to that employment, he would
give him as demonstrative evidence of it as he had of
the existence of Deity. And I also ardently wished
that if I should become a preacher, I might be a good
and a great one. But considering the inferiority of my
abilities and education, it appeared to be out of the
question, that I should become a real minister of Christ.
Such thoughts and impressions revolved in my mind for
ten years before I attempted to preach, during which
time I was a constant attendant on preaching, whenever
I had opportunity, and was an attentive hearer, and a
critical observer. I sometimes thought 1 discovered in
some young preachers a degree of affectation, and an
inclination to imitate the manners of such preachers as
were celebrated speakers. This extremely hurt my
feelings. I had read and prayerfully studied the script
ures for more than twelve years, and felt no more com
petent to determine whether God had called me to preach
than when the subject first exercised my thoughts; and
yet [ could not possibly disengage my mind from the
subject.

About the year 1800, I spent a Sabbath with my good
friends in Portland, who by this time had increased to a
considerable number, and had hired a school-house in
Union-street, in which a decent congregation assembled.

Mr. Titcomb led the meeting, but I think he did not
preach. His speaking powerfully aiTected my mind,
and I felt as if I must speak when he closed. I made
the attempt, and I felt as if I was assisted by the Holy
Spirit. I had great freedom, and had the attention of
the people, and spake to them fifteen or twenty minutes,
to the particular satisfaction of my Christian friends

ANDREW SHERBURXE. 203

When 1 reflected on what had passed, I concluded that
if I at that time had spoken under the influence of the
Holy Spirit, that I had very many times grieved
that Spirit, by declining to obey his dictates.

When I returned home, my feelings were very much
tried from the circumstance that my brethren had had
no meeting on the preceding Sabbath... And it was no
small trial to me, when I reflected in what manner I had
spoken in Portland, when I had never undertaken to
speak in that manner in my own church. Although I
had often felt as if I must unavoidably speak unto them
the words of this life, yet I withheld, either in conse
quence of its being so great a cross, or for fear I should
run when the Lord had not sent me. I do not know
that I felt any condemnation for speaking in Portland,
for I believe I may say that I could not hold my peace.

CHAPTER X.

Commences preaching, in 1801 — Visits Boston — Death
of his sister — Preaches in Boston, in Salem and many
other places — In 1802 preaches in Philipsburg —
The venerable Deacon Chase — E. Hight, Esq. —
Preaches at Arundel — Removes to Arundel — Reform
ation — Teaches school — Ordained — Takes the census
in six towns — Distressing sickness — His wife out of
health — Her life despaired of— Her happy state of
mind — Her death.

OUR meetings were carried on in Cornish, as usual;
the free-will brethren occasionally setting up u their post
by our post." On the fourth Sabbath in May, 1801, as
I was on the way to our school-house where we held our
meetings, I met several going to the other meeting and I
was almost determined to turn back myself, from the
impression that there would be none at the school-house;
I however went foward, and to my astonishment found

204 MEMOIRS OF

a larger congregation than usually met there, when there
was no preacher. The books were passed from one
brother to another, and finally were presented to me. I
opened the meeting in our usual manner, and having
read the second chapter of the epistle to the Colossians,
1 informed the audience that it was my design to confine
rny observations to the sixth and seventh verses. I had
great freedom in giving my views of " receiving Christ
Jesus the Lord;" the reasonableness, the propriety, and
the necessity, of walking in his commandments and ordi
nances, in order to a " growth in grace, and abounding
therein with thanksgiving." Having delivered my
message, I felt a peculiar calmness of mind.

It was soon noised abroad, and in the adjacent towns,
that Sherburne had commenced preaching. For some
time I enjoyed a happy state of mind. Immediately upon
this, deacon Joseph Smith, before mentioned, commenc
ed preaching, to great acceptance. Our congregation
increased: — the free-will brethren gave up their meeting;
— the Methodist class was dissolved, and a reformation
again commenced.

I was much attached to Mr. John Watson, formerly a
sailor, and Mr. Asa Osgood, an old revolutionist, both
living in Brownfield, seven miles north of Cornish.
They both being members of the church with me, urged
me to preach in their neighborhood; and I having par
ticular acquaintance in Limerick, Limington, Baldwin,
Portland, and a number of other towns, was invited to
preach in those places: and as deacon Smith was preach
ing in Cornish, to the satisfaction of the church, I was
at liberty to be absent, and comply with the^wishes
of my friends abroad.

I had anticipated severe trials, if I were to preach,
but my mind was generally tranquil. I generally had
freedom in speaking, and took great satisfaction in read
ing and studying the scriptures. But my trading con
cerns were embarrassments to my mind, and I was re
solved to wind up that business as soon as possible. I
found myself indebted to Esq. Fierce, and others in Port
land, about four hundred dollars, and the property I then
held was worth about nine hundred dollars.

AXDHEW SHERBUR.\E. 205

Iii March, 1802, Mr. John Coflin, and others, employ
ed me to transact dome business for them in Glocester,
on Cape Ann. J laving accomplished my business, and
being so near Boston, I resolved to visit t\vo of my sis
ters then residing in Boston. When 1 was there in the
year of 1791), I had thre.",- sisters there at service; as
wages were much higher in Boston than in Portsmouth.
They had been recommended by ladies in Portsmouth,
to other ladies of their acquaintance in Boston. Eliza
beth and Mary lived at a Mr. Boardinan'd, on Fort Hill,
and Susan lived several years at Dr. Jarvar's, but was
now married to Capt. Peter Kenedy, who kept a board
ing-house. Mary was married to a Mr. Kelly, about a
year before, and shortly after died. I arrived in Bos
ton about six o'clock, P. M. and first called on my good
friend, Mr. Ja's. Newhall, with whom I boarded in 1799.
Mrs. N. enquired whether I had been sent for-, I in
formed her 1 was not. "Then," said she, "you did not
know that your friends were in trouble/' I informed
her I did not, and requested to know what was the mat
ter. She replied, " your sister Elizabeth died this
morning at five o'clock."

1 had never heard of her illness, as she had been sick
but a few days. I unexpectedly found my mother in
Boston. She had been living with my brother George,
on the Penobscot river, and went to Boston in a coaster,
with him, a few weeks before, to see her children. I call
ed on my good friend Baldwin, who attended the funeral.

This sister was the only relative I had ever followed
to the grave, except one cousin. As I drew near to Bos
ton, my mind was deeply employed in contemplating on
the subject of mortality, and anticipating the scenes of
sorrow and of joy, in which I expected shortly to be em
ployed witli my dear surviving sisters; little thinking that
the first information from the first acquaintance I should
meet, would be the death of one of them. "Be ye also
ready." While in Boston, Mr. Baldwin would have me
preach in his vestry, which I did, but it put me to a hard
trial to preach to Bostoriians. On my return home, I
preached at Salem, Beverly, Windham, Hampton Falls
and Exeter.

18

206 MEMOIRS OF

In the summer of 1802, 1 preached frequently at Phil-
ipsburg, (now Hollis,) on Saco river, about ten miles
from the sea. On the second Sabbath in which I preach
ed in this town, which was the thirteenth of June 1802, 1
first became acquainted with the venerable deacon Chase,
of the Congregational church in Saco. He was here on
a visit at Elisha Eight's, Esq. His lady was the deacon's
grand daughter. Before public worship began in the
morning, Col. Lane, of Buxton, called on me; with a re
quest that I would attend the funeral of a Mr. Abner
Chase, late of Litchfield, in New-Hampshire. Col. Lane
and others, had employed this active and enterprising
young man, as the master workman of a bridge which they
were constructing across Saco river, between Buxton and
Hollis. He was unfortunately drowned in Saco river,
on the twenty-first of May. Great exertions were used
to recover the body, but it was not found until the twelfth
or thirteenth of June, when it arose and floated ashore
in Hollis, a few miles below Esq. Right's.

It was expedient that the corpse should be deposited in
a coffin, and even in the grave, as soon as possible; but
before the grave was covered, a large assembly of the
citizens of Buxton and Hollis formed a procession at a
house not far distant, and marched round the grave, and
then attended public worship in an orchard. The de
ceased was a distant relation of the deacon's, who was
the only relative to attend on the solemn occasion. The
deacon was then about ninety years of age. As Col.
Lane arranged the procession, it was his request that
the deacon and myself should walk together to the grave.
It was my wish to have walked at the left hand of such a
venerable character, and I took that position, but before
I was aware of it, he reversed the order, and insisted
upon my walking at his right hand, and I was constrained
to submit.

From that time, the deacon became quite attached to
me; and it was no small consolation to me, to enjoy the
friendship and attachment of such eminent Christians as
elder Chadbourn, before mentioned, and old deacon
Chase. It would be difficult for me to say which of those
excellent and aged Christians I most highly esteemed.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. ^07

Elder Chadbourn had departed this life, however, be
fore I became acquainted with deacon Chase. I believe
I have before mentioned that elder Chadbourn had two
sons who were Baptist preachers. Deacon Chase had
two sons who were members of the Baptist church in Lim-
ington, viz. Amos and Abner; the former of whom is a
deacon. I believe he is yet living, and think he must
be more than seventy years of age.

After I settled in Arundel, (now called Kennebunk
Port,) deacon Chase used occasionally to come to our
meeting; and after they had built a new meeting-house
at Saco, he invited me to preach in the old one, which I
did several times. When he was ninety-jive, I had been
preaching at said meeting-house, and we stood talking
together after the assembly had all dispersed, and when
we took our leave of each other, the deacon mounted his
horse from the ground, with as much alacrity as I could
have done. The good man lived until he had almost ac
complished his hundredth year. But few men have lived
more universally respected. I believe that at the age of
ninety, it could scarcely be perceived, by his acquain
tance, that his mental powers had, in any considerable
degree, depreciated. u The memory of the just is bless
ed?' Proverbs, x. 7.

I continued to preach at Hollis once a month, until
October, 1802. They were supplied also a part of the
time, by a Mr. Timothy Holdson, a young man of hand
some talents, and a decent education, who commenced
preaching that summer, and was afterwards settled in the
ministry in that town. I shall have occasion to say some
thing more of this excellent man hereafter.

NV'iiile I preached in Hollis, I became very intimate in
the families of Esquire Right and Mr. Daniel Stone.
Those two families were friendly to me, and I generally
put up with one or the other of them, and felt myself per
fectly at home. None of them were public professors of
religion at that time, but Mrs. Stone was n person of un
questionable piety. I visited her some years after this,
while on her dying bed, and found her possessed of an
unshaken hope in Christ.

I cannot well refrain from saying a few words of Esq.
Right, who many years since left a numerous and inter-

208 MEMOIRS OF

csting family to mourn his untimely death. J must con
fess that ot'all men with whom 1 have been acquainted, I
have never found his superior in attention to visitors. lie,
appeared to take the utmost pleasure in accommodating
them. Sonic fifteen or twenty years since, this gentle
man hud a gun"1 of hands employed in clearing a piece of
excellent new land, on a limn several miles frmn his
house. There was a certain root which attracted his at
tention; he tasted it, and observing that it had a pleasant
taste, he offered some of it to his workmen. One or two
of them tasted it, but did not swallow it; but lie was so
imprudent as to swallow it freely. Thev directly alter
went to the house to procure drink: — they sat but a few
minutes, when he complained that he fe!t quite unwell.
He was advised to lay down on the bed, which he did,
and the men went to their work. The woman of the
house knew that he was very loud of colfee, and said she
would make some strong colfee, and thought he would
feel better. She went to the well to procure water, and
when she returned, she found him off the bed. and strug
gling on the floor. She called to the men, who immedi
ately carnc in and put him on the bed again; but he was
so convulsed that it was difficult to keep him on the bed.
He expired in less than half an hour. The, reader can
better judge, than 1 can express, what must have been
the distress of an affectionate wife and eight or ten loud
children, on the reception of such distressing tidings,
it was thought that the root of which this gentleman so
incautiously partook, was the wild parsnip.

I have known several instances in which persons have
lost their lives by eatinjj this poisonous root. An in
stance} occurred in this viciniry, in which a young bid died
in consequence of eating this root, us Mas supposed. In
giving this account, it is one object of the writer to put
his readers on their uuard, and to induce parents to warn
their children against this deadly poison.

On the first Sabbath in October, 100:2, bv icquest, I
preached in the new meeting-house in Anmdrl, ( now
railed Kennebunk Port.) This was in the ncighboi hood
of elder S. Locke, who occasionally preached iu thr san>e
house, which had been built a few years before, chiefly

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 209

by the Congregationalists; for there was no Baptist
church or society in the town. The Kennebunk river,
on tiie west of this town, divided it from Wells. It was
bounded on the east by Biddeford, arid on the south by
the ocean. It included Cape Porpoise, (which was its
original name,) and extended eight miles into the coun
try, to the town of Lyman, on the north. At the port
there is a handsome and populous village. The old Con
gregational meeting-house, in which the .Rev. Silas
Moody preached at that time, stood within a mile of the
Port; consequently some of the inhabitants had to travel
six miles to meeting. The new meeting-house was erec
ted with a design to have Mr. Moody preach in it a
stipulated part of the time, but as the voters at and about
the Port, could out vote those who were interested in the
new house, they could never get a vote of the town for
Mr. Moody to preach there. He preached to them,
however, one Sabbath, and several other Congregational
ministers being invited, preached a day each to them.
Being unable to settle a Congregationalist, they suf
fered the Baptist? to preach in it.

Mr. Timothy Remick, a licentiate from the Baptist
church in Parsonfield, had preached there several Sab
baths, and there was a prospect of a reformation. Mr.
Rernick was soon called to take the pastoral charge of
the church in Cornish, where I believe he continues to
this day.

By request, I preached to them again in Arundel, on
the second sabbath in November. I spoke twice at the
meeting-house; I then attended a funeral, and had a lec
ture in the evening; and had several other meetings in
the town before I returned home. .Early in December,
a committee from Arundel visited me, and informed me
that the proprietors of the meeting-house had had a meet
ing, and unanimously voted to consider themselves, and
be considered, as a Baptist society; and also to invite
me to come and settle with them.

With regard to emoluments, they would give me the
amount of the ministerial tax which they had usually
paid to Mr. Moody, which was about sixty dollars. One
half of the interest of the money for which the town par-
18*

210 MKMOIHS OF

sonage had recently been sold, which thev supposed to
he about forty dollars; and I might also have the oppor
tunity of teaching their district school. I was by no
means critical with them in regard to a stipend, for our
lathers of the preceding generation, had considered it
nlmost a crime for a preacher to have a salary settled
upon him: and some of them seemed inclined to denounce
Jill such ;is hirelings, who took any thing for preaching,
by way of a tax. Dissenters from Congreoationalists
Imd been so much oppressed, and so frequently impris
oned, in consequence of ministerial taxes, that they de
tested the idea of supporting a minister by a tax. 1 be
lieve, however, they had no objection to u minister's re
ceiving a free-will offering.

1 did not hesitate to comply with their request. It
seemed enough for me that they wished for my services.
Thev had provided a house for me to live in, and would
provide hay for my horse and cow, and a sufficiency of
fire wood, and would move me down from the country,
(about thirty miles,) without any expense to myself. As
T had a year's provision on hand, 1 was not uneasy re
specting my subsistence.

Towards the last of January, 180:)., I moved from
Cornish toAruudel and took up my quarters for the time
with Mr. John Tarbox; and found myself pleasantly sit
uated in an inteiesfinir family and neighborhood. There
were frequent conversions, and a harmonious society.
Ju June following, there was a Baptist church constitut
ed", consisting of thirteen members; the greatest part of
wl>om na'l been members of elder Locke's chinch, in
LyiiMin. On the KSf.h of July 1303, we had the addition
of seven to our Itttle church, viz. Nath'iel Walker, and
Betsey, his wife; Nathaniel Cuvier, and Hannah, his
wife; Charles Smith; Paulina Tarbox, the wife of Mr.
John Tarbox, my host; and Miss Eunice Ford. I
preached on the •OC-CRS.IOU from (Jen. xxiv, 58, il And flic
ffiirt I irilf ffo." They wore baptized by elder Locke.
The church being thus organized and enlarged, they
gave me a call to ordination. The society concurring
with the measures of the church, they united in Driving
me full liberty to send to as many churches as I pleased.

ANDREW SI1E.RBUIINE. 211

for a council to be convened at our meeting- house, ou
the'J~lh of September. Letters were therefore address
ed to eleven churches, whose delegates met according
to request, and on the 28th 1 was ordained, at the close
of mv thirty-eighth year. Mr. Moody was invited to at
tend the council and ordination, hut he declined. He
manifested very unfriendly feelings towards the Baptists
and towards the reformation. J never knew or heard of
anv such thing as a prayer meetiag or a conference meet
ing in his church or society, while he lived.

J held meetings at private houses, in different parts of
the town, and was frequently called to attend funerals in
and about the village. Air. Moody did not approve of
my being called, or of my attending on those occasions.
He thought me an intruder if I went into the lower part
of the town to solemnize a marriage, attend a funeral, or
to hold any religious naeeu&<*, The reformation extend
ed to all parts of the town, and the novelty of the tiling
seemed to incline, manv persons to go and see and hear for
themselves. This, however, was attended with some
difticultv, for they had reason to fear that it they should
indulge their inclinations, it might injure the feelings of
5omo of their good friends. On funeral occasions, how
ever, almost all seemed to be at liberty to attend. There
had rcecntlv been a small Baptist church constituted in
the north part of \Vetls, of which elder Joshua Roberts
was the pastor. There was a reformation in this church
also as well as in elder Locke's in Lyman. Occasional
ly others, wit!) mvsclf, preached and baptized in the
Rev. Mr. Fletcher's parish, in Wells. He was as lit
tle inclined to favor the reformation as was Mr. Moody*.

Our society manifested an anxiety in assisting me to
a settlement. Thomas Durrell, Ksq. and Col. John
Mitchell, were the most opulent and influential members
of our society. The latter iiad been a fellow sufferer
with me on board the Jersey prison-ship. Durrell h-av-
in«r recently built an elegant house, gave me his ol'd one,
which, with some repairs, made a decent and comforta
ble house; and Col. Mitchell gave me an acre of lasRfF on
which to set it The other members of the society were
equally generous, according to their abilities, but by far
the greater part of the society were hard pressed jo sup-

MEMOIRS OF

port their families. We had some addition to our num
bers from the lower part of the town, but this circum
stance occasioned unpleasant feelings.

The leading characters of our society thought that we
had a just right to an equal proportion of the interest of
the parsonage money, as it was originally given for the
use of the ministry, without a designation of any partic
ular denomination. I was therefore advised to apply
to Mr. Moody, to see if he would relinquish to me a
part of said money, and accordingly I did, but he refused.
We not being an incorporated society, it was a ques
tion whether we could make a legal claim. It was there
fore concluded to make application to the general court
for an act of incorporation. A petition being prepared,
I was once more sent to Boston in behalf of the Baptist
denomination; and I had much better success than I had
seven years before, when I went in behalf of my oppres
sed brethren in Limington.

I had also an opportunity of renewing my acquaint
ance with the excellent Baldwin; but I found the dear
man and his family in an afflicted condition. His on
ly son, about twenty years of age, lay at the point of
death. He had been indisposed but a few days, and ex
pired the next day after my arrival, which was Satur
day; of course he lay a corpse over the Sabbath. Dr.
Stillman made it his business to see that ]\lr. Baldwin's
pulpit was sup] lied. The Doctor preached for Mr.
Baldwin in the morning; it fell to me to preach for him
in the afternoon, and the venerable Mr. G ration, from
Newton, preached in the evening.

The alley or gate-way which led from the street to
Mr. Baldwin's meeting-house, passed directly by a back
door of the house in which he dwelt. After the morning
service, a large number probably an hundred of the mem
bers of his church, entered this door, to express their
deep sympathy with their beloved pastor. It was truly
an atYecting scene to see the good man sitting like a pa
triarch, with sorrow, meekness and resignation depict
ed on his manly countenance, while the members of his
church, the females in particular, pressing by him, ex
tending the trembling hand, and weeping, passed out

ANDREW SHERBCRNE. '-213

the front door; while this man of God Occasionally ut
tered some appropriate text of scripture or expressed his
gratitude for their regard to him and his afflicted family.

Much as J had witnessed of sickness, death, hlood
and carnage, and while scarcely feeling " one soft affec
tion move,r on tins occasion I could not but drop a sym
pathizing tear.

Thomas Perkins, Esq. who had formerly expressed
his disapprobation of the incorporation of Baptist socie
ties, was at this time the representative from Arundel.
This rrcntleman had become more friendly to the Bap
tists. " He met me in the state-house and proffered his
services in favor of my petition.

The honorable John Woodman, of Buxton, was at
that time a member of the Senate. He was in senti
ment a Baptist, and to him I left the care of my petition.
1 found matters to be in such a train in the ueneral
c-uirt, that I was not at all solicitous about the success
of our petition. I made but a short stop in Boston, ami
s >o:i after my return, Dr. Baldwin forwarded to me the
act of incorporation, dated June C24 1806.

My friend Durrcll being an acting justice of the peace
at that, time, issued a warrant to Col. John Mitchell, re
questing him to call a meeting of the society on the fif
teenth day of September, for the purpose of choosing
the necessary officers, Stc.

The society met at the meeting-house at the time ap
pointed, and called on me to pray with them; and after
choosing their oliieers, they voted to raise one hundred
dollars as a salary for me, for the ensuing year. This
sum was assessed and collected like an ordinary tax, and
paid to me.

At the expiration of the year they voted to raise the
same sum for the next. But when the embargo AMI*
laid in the year 1808, it much embarrassed the contmu-
nitv in general, in our region, and it becume difficult lor
a number of our society to pay the taxes. This ditfi-
cultv continued from year to year, until the commence
ment of the war.

A'lterior to this I had sold mv property in Cornish for
nine hundred dollars, and had discharged my debts; and

214 MEMOIRS OF

had also purchased a lot adjoining my place of residence,
containing between thirty and forty acres, and having in
curred some necessary expenses for buildings, &,c. I
was again rather involved in debt, but was not straitened;
for I had the good fortune to form a friendly acquain
tance with Captain Wm. Fairtield, who obliged me with
the loan of a sufficient sum of money with what I had on
hand, to make out the payment for my land. There
were individuals in the society who gave me more than
double the amount of their taxes, but there were others
who were move unable to pay than 1 was to do without
it. There were also individuals of the Congregational
society who bestowed many favors upon me.

I have often with astonishment reviewed the kind in
terpositions of the gracious providence of God in rescu
ing me from dangers, and providing for my necessities,
and [ have reason to be more astonished at my own in
gratitude in view of the many distinguished mercies God
has graciously bestowed upon me.

In the year 1810, as I was walking the street in Saco,
I observed that Dr. Thorntan had a new office, which I
had never before noticed. It occurred to my mind, that
twelve or fifteen years before, while we attended the
county convention, which I have before mentioned, the
doctor gave me a pressing invitation to call on him. We
did not see each other frequently, but he always renew
ed his request whenever we met.

At that time he was a practitioner in physic and a
member of the Legislature; but now he was marshal of
the District of Maine.

I was resolved at this time to give the doctor a call;
and accordingly I stepped into his office, where I found
him alone. He gave me a cordial reception, but was
inclined gently to rebuke me for not calling on him be
fore. I could defend myself only by observing to him,
that I had oft on invited him to call on me, but that he
had never called. He observed that he had sometimes
passed rny house, but that it was when he was on busi
ness that would not allow of his stopping. He thought
as I was frequently in the village, I might occasionally
him a call; he should be happy to see me at any

ANDREW 3HERBURNE. 215

time. We passed half an hour quite agreeably. It was
early in the day and 1 had some business that called my
attention, but he insisted that I should dine with him that
day. I returned and took dinner with the doctor. In
conversation he observed that it appeared to him, that
the people in the vicinity of my meeting-house, were gen
erally in indigent circumstances. He, in his familiar
way inquired what I received for a subsistance among
them; observing by the way, that he had thought of of
fering me some business, if it would be agreeable to me
to engage in it. I inquired what it was? He replied
that he had recently received orders to take the census
of the district, anc that if I was disposed to take a part
of it, he would give me a district as large as I wished to
take. I replied that I did not know whether it would
comport with my calling. "I think," said he, "you
need not indulge any scruples on that account, for Mr.
E. (a Congregational preacher) has made application to
a friend, to procure a district for him. There have been
fifteen or twenty applications made to me already, but I
have not as yet committed myself to any one; but this
much I will say, Mr. Sherburne, if you will take a dis
trict I will give you one as large as you think you can
take.'' I replied that I would think of the matter, and
give him an answer in a few days.

I consulted some of my best friends on the subject,
particularly deacon James Tarbox, one of my most con
fidential friends, Col. Mitchell, esquire Durrell, and oth
ers. I found none opposed to my undertaking. Previously
to my calliug on the marshal, I had not indulged the re
motest thought of applying for, or of being requested to
engage in this business. I therefore considered it as a
gracious display of divine providence towards me. The
Lord knew my wants, and he also knew that my people
were unable to supply them.

I shortly after called on the Marshal again, and in
formed him that I had concluded to accept his offer, and
he assigned me the towns of Kittery, Elliot, York, Wells,
Arundel and Biddeford. Those towns included all the
territory on the sea coast, between the Piscataqua river
on the west, and Saco river on the east; a distance from

216 MF.MOIRS OF

thirty to forty miles, and extending eight or ten miles in
to the country, probably including three hundred square
miles, and sixteen or seventeen thousand inhabitants;
averaging from fifty to sixty on a square mile.

In addition to the census, government had directed
that the assistant marshal should also take an account of
the several manufacturing establishments in their sever
al divisions, together with the quality and value of the
articles manufactured annually. This business was to
commence on the first Monday in August, and to be
completed in five months.

I had to explore a large field, and introduce myself to
a variety of characters, and to interrogate persons res
pecting the different members of their family, and the
kind and quantity of articles which were manufactured
by them.

In order to carry the laws into execution, it became
necessary to put at least a dozen questions, and some
times thirty or more. I soon perceived that it was nec
essary for me to proceed with the utmost caution, and
introduce rny business with all the prudence of which I
was master.

A large proportion of the people were unfriendly to
the administration, many of them seemed to have forgot
ten, or never known that there had ever been a census
taken before. There were not a few, however, who
had paid so much attention to their bibles, as to have
ascertained that David numbered the children of Israel,
and thereby incurred the displeasure of God and brought
a heavy judgment upon the nation.

In many instances when I entered a house and cau
tiously made known my business, before I could ask a
question and obtain an answer, I was under the neces
sity of answering half a dozen questions. "What do
you want to number the people for?" was a question
frequently asked in the remote parts of towns and along
the sea-shore. It would have been rude in me not to
have taken some notice of their questions. I would
sometimes tell them that the constitution of the United
States required that the people should be numbered
once in ten years; I would sometimes tell them that it

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 217

was the law ofthe land. They would sometimes reply
in the following language^ " Why, can't our rulers find
nothing else to do, but to make such foolish and wicked
laws?"

On an evening towards the going down of the sun, I
was coasting down a beautiful little creek which made
out of the Piscataqua river, thickly lined with small
houses on each side. 1 called at a small house, standing
twenty feet from the margin of the creek, and probably
twenty feet above its surface. The old lady was busy
near the end door, from which a flight of stairs led down
to the creek.

The old gentleman had just arrived from the ocean
with a fare offish, a business which he had probably fol
lowed more than fiftv years. He seemed quite decrep-
id, deaf, and sat in his canoe, heaving out his fishes. I
modestly informed the good old lady what my business
was. c< Numbering the people!" exclaimed the good
woman, " what do you want to number the people for?
do you want to bring the judgments of God upon the
land? don't you know what David did? I don't believe
'tis right," turning to the old gentleman and raising her
voice, " do you father?" " What is it?" said the old
man. (t Why, here is a man taking the number ofthe
people, and I don't believe 'tis right, do you father?"
"• Believe," said he, " I don't believe nothing about it;
I know it ari't right!"

In this case, as well as in many others, I had to make
the best of it. I was obliged to luff and bear away, as
circumstances required. In visiting two or three thou
sand families, without selection or exception, there is
something to be learned. A person of sensibility and
penetration, possessing the power of description, in pas
sing through such a scene, might present an instructive
picture to the inquisitive and observing; but for myself,
I must get along with my simple narrative without any
such exhibitions.

Anterior to this, I had supposed that the more igno
rant and wretched part of community was to be found in
the back woods, but when I came to travel over and
around the mountains in old York, well known to sailort
19

218 MEMOIRS OP

by the name of Agamentaeus, and to visit from house to
house about Kittery Point, Cape Neddock, and Cape
Porpoise, I formed a different opinion. A large propor
tion of the inhabitants of this region, get their living
principally by fishing, and within a few years previous to
this, there had been a great destruction among the fish
ermen. In one storm, there were probably from twen
ty to thirty women left widows, and probably more than
a hundred children left fatherless, in the town of Kit
tery. I recollect calling on one poor old widow, who
was surrounded by four or five little ragged grand chil
dren; one of their parents was dead and the other had
deserted them; but I cannot now remember whether it
was the father or mother.

The old lady having told me her pitiful story, asked
me if I would give her a little money to buy the children
some bread. I never had so many applications made to
me for alms, before or since, as while I was in this ser
vice; and as I never was without change in my pocket,
I never felt myself at liberty to refuse, nor did I conclude
that the few dollars I disposed of in this way, were lost.
I considered it, as Dr. Scott termed his charities, " seed
corn;" though I had the mortification afterwards to learn
that some of it went for rum.

In the new back country, although they sometimes
have but little preaching, and that in private houses or
barns, yet the people in general make it their practice
to attend, let their apparel be what it may. But in those
towns on the sea coast, there are many persons who
probably do not go into a meeting-house once in seven
years.

One cause for this is, that a large portion of commu-
uity who attend meetings, dress so much better than the
poor, that they are ashamed to go. They are suspicious
that the rich and gay will look down on them with con
tempt. They will sometimes, in vindication of the prac
tice, argue that they '* have a bible and other good
books, and they think they can get as much good by
reading as they can by going to meeting." But I am
inclined to think that in general when people become
habituated to absent themselves from meeting) that the/

ANDRIW SHERBURNE. 219

shortly become habituated to neglect their " bible and
other good books."

I was occasionally requested to visit the sick, and in
some instances those who were near the borders of eter
nity, through intemperance.

1 realized but little inconvenience in regard to preach
ing. My pulpit was constantly supplied, either by my-
sejf, or through an exchange with some brother; and as
I was not employed by the day, I could occasionally
gratify my friends by giving a lecture. I had never been
in the habit of confining myself exclusively to study; my
circumstances would not admit of it. It was rarely the
case, however, that I spoke from a text without some
previous reflections.

It was common for me to arrange my subjects while
riding or walking alone, or while engaged in some other
business, sometimes "in wakeful hours by night." I
have, however, sometimes spoken from the impulse of
the present moment, and found as much liberty in speak
ing as when I had most attentively studied and arranged
my subjects. But I have never found myself so much
embarrassed for something to say, and that according to
truth, too, as I have to find in myself those internal and
external qualifications which Paul has declared neces
sary for a minister of the gospel.

In November, an afflicting circumstance occurred in
my society. Mr. Luther Walker, (whose father was a
member of our church, and a neighbor to me,) returned
from the West Indies, very sick of a contagious fever.
He was too ill to be taken home to his father's house,
five or six miles distance, and was conveyed to Mr. An
drew Walker's, his uncle, who lived near the Port. He
was here confined, extremely ill a part of the time, for a
week or two; but at length so far recovered as to be con
veyed home. Mr. A. Walker's wife, and Jane, his el
dest daughter, were members of our church.

About the time that Luther was taken away, Jane be
gan to complain; Mary and Susan, the two next, were
also attacked with the same disease; arid shortly after,
Palmer, Sophia, Lydia, Joseph, and Anna were confin
ed, and last of all, Mrs. Walker herself. Mr. W. and

220 MEMOIRS OF

Andrew the youngest son, only escaped this distressing
lever.

In about a week or ten days, Jane died, strong in the
faith. She was one of the most devoted and exemplary
young persons I was ever acquainted with : she was about
twenty. Mary, about eighteen, and Joseph, about eight,
were in a few days after laid by the side of Jane. The
others recovered, and a young widow also, who took the
same fever in the family. The neighbors were so much
alarmed, that they were afraid to go to the house. It
was a fortunate circumstance that Mr. Walker himself,
was not sick. Dr. Langdon, their physician, was inde
fatigable in his attention, and sat up with them many
nights. In the course of their sickness, I watched with
them seventeen nights, and several gentlemen from the
Port, especially Messrs. John and Samuel Davis, were
particularly attentive.

This calamity retarded me in my business, and I was
liable to a heavy fine, if I failed to make out my return
in due season. But Mr. W. was one of my most inti
mate friends, and he was desirous that I should pay all
the attention I possibly could to his family, and told me
that if I was fined, he would pay it himself. I however,
succeeded, and made out my return in season, to the en
tire satisfaction of the marshal. From the avails of this
service, I was enabled to discharge some of my debts,
and to procure some necessaries that we could not well
do without. Thus God, in his abounding mercy towards
me, graciously supplied my wants, so that I had a com
fortable living, and myself and family could make a re
spectable appearance.

For thirteen or fourteen years, I taught the school of
the district, in which I resided, three or four months in
a year; and at length had the gratification of seeing some
of my earliest female scholars, lead their little ones to
my school.

In the year 1807, I was, by Governor Sullivan, com
missioned as the chaplain of the sixth regiment in the
first brigade and sixth division of the militia of the com
monwealth of Massachusetts. This office I sustained
r ten years, little suspecting, however, when I ac-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 221

cepted the appointment, that I should ever be called to
any other services than a regimental review: but in this
I was mistaken, for after the war commenced, in 1812,
there were ten thousand, if my memory is correct, of the
militia of the commonwealth, detached to defend the
coast, &c. The major and several companies, with my
self, were detached from our regiment, to be stationed at
Kittery point for the defence of Portsmouth harbor : —
but when Governor Strong was elected, he countermand
ed those orders, so that we never took that station. We
had something, however, to attend to nearer home; for
the enemy committed depredations on our coast, within
a few miles of us, more than once. Our regiment was
once called out to defend our own harbor, but the enemy
did not think it best to land. They entered Saco harbor,
a few miles to the east of us, took several vessels, and
burnt one on the stocks. They chased a privateer ship
on shore, within a mile of our harbor, and finally captur
ed her, got her off and took her away. It was said that
the privateer had on board a number of deserters from
the British navy, but they made their escape before the
enemy got possession of the privateer. Had they fallen
into the hands of the British, they would probably have
been hanged. We had hard times, in consequence of
the embargo and war, and had to endure many priva
tions. At one time Indian corn was two and a half dol
lars per bushel, and many were entirely destitute of bread
for weeks together; but our sufferings were nothing, in
comparison with many others, in different sections of our
country.

In the year 1814, I was appointed one of the assist
ant asssessors of the direct tax. My district consisted
of the towns of Wells and Arundel. I was at that time,
as might well be expected, in narrow circumstances; as
was also a large proportion of my fellow citizens. Any
legal means to increase our funds, was very desirable.
I never sought for the office, however, either directly or
indirectly, nor did I know any thing of the matter, un
til Daniel Wood, Esq. the principal assessor, called on
me with a commission, and other documents made out
in my name. I viewed the hand of divine proridence
19*

MEMOIRS OF

in this, and thought it my duty to accept the office. I
afterwards ascertained that Judge Thatcher, \rho kept
the post-office in Kennebunk, and was afterwards the
collector of the revenue at Eastport, recommended me.
This business, however, proved very fatiguing and un
pleasant, and we earned the small pittance which gov
ernment allowed for this service, at a dear rate. It was
winter season, and we had short time allowed us in
which to perform the service, and were much exposed
to inclement weather. A large proportion of the peo
ple were hostile to the measures of government. The of
ficers of the large town of Wells would not permit me to
have the least access to their town documents; of course
I had much difficulty in making out lists of valuation,
and although I was treated with politeness by many of
the refined part of the community, yet there were those
of high standing, who would encourage and counten
ance the vulgar to insult and abuse me. Sometimes I
had my horse turned loose, and sometimes his harness
was cut. In some places I felt in danger, if out in the
evening. In one instance a merchant, who had held
high and responsible offices, gave a weak and clamorous
woman a quarter of a pound of tea, because she had
treated me with insolent and abusive language. One
lady, (if such a title be proper,) threatened to drive me
cut of the house with her broom-stick. Numbers were
very loquacious, but not altogether so determined for
war. These circumstances discover in some degree,
what was at that period the spirit of the times. -

About the winding up of this business, as I was re
turning home on Saturday evening with a bushel of In
dian corn on my horse, for which I had just paid two
dollars and fifty cents, I was passing the dwelling of an
old Baptist deacon. I knew he had recently been very
sick, but had just got out again, and I saw him a little
before me, staggering along with some wood on his
shoulder. He was a very poor man, and remarkably pi-
ou?, I contrasted the old gentleman's condition with
my own, and in a moment felt an impression to give the
old saint a quarter of a dollar. About sixty cents was
all the money I was master of, and this I had in small

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 223

change; 1 therefore questioned the propriety of divid
ing my little purse so equally with this man, and quer
ied whether half the sum would not do, but durst not re
ject the first impression. My wife was at this time in poor
health, though not destitute of the common comforts of
life, and I again queried whether it was expedient for me
thus to part with my money. It would be some time
before 1 should get my money for my services, and that
would not be sufficient to pay all my debts: but by the
time I had got up with my old brother, and enquired
about his health — he told me he had been very sick, &c.
It was about the setting of the sun, and I had about
four miles to ride, and felt in haste, but my conscience
would not suffer me to leave him, until I had given the
little sum of twenty-five cents. The old man was ex
ceeding grateful, and began to lavish encomiums on my
wife for deeds of charity towards him, but his manner of
speaking induced me to be off as soon as I could, and I
went on my way, more at ease, I believe, than I should,
if I had withholden the little sum, or any part of it. On
reflection, I felt not a little ashamed that my covetous
heart should object to a duty so obvious. By this simple
narration I do not mean to sound a trumpet before me,
but to exhibit the especial mercy of God towards me.

The next day being the Lord's day, I preached twice
in our meeting-house, and had an appointment at a school
house at the Port, at five o'clock, which was about five
miles from our meeting-house. Just as I was going in
to the school-house, a gentleman requested me to give
an opportunity for a contribution, before I closed the
meeting, but did not inform me on what account. The
contribution was taken, and after the meeting was dis
missed, a gentleman put their contribution into my hand
amounting to about twenty dollars. It was entirely un
expected by me; there had never such a thing taken
place there before, to my knowledge. The first thought
that came to my mind, was the twenty-five cents I had
parted with about twenty-four hours before. The wise
man tells us to ucast our bread upon the waters, and
that we shall find it after many days;" but in this case,
with me, it was not many days before I gathered about

224 MEMOIRS OF

eighty fold. Thus the Almighty arm, which had been
so often extended to pluck rne from the grave, was mer
cifully extended to supply my wants.

It seemed as if there was never a more seasonable
supply, or one more unexpected. My wife was declin
ing under the pressure of a distressing disease — a poly
pus, which eventually brought her to her grave. 1 could
not bear that she should be in want of any thing which [
could possibly procure for her comfort. I could indeed
obtain any of the necessaries of life I wished, on credit;
but was unwilling to increase my debts, without some
promising prospects of discharging them. The winter
of 1815, was a period of uncommon affliction in my
family. My wife's disease increased to an alarming de
gree: — she was unable to lie down in her bed for many
months, and she was obliged to sit almost erect, either in
bed or in on easy chair, and frequently so much distres
sed for breath for some minutes, as to alarm the whole
family. At the same time, Betsey, our adopted daugh
ter, about twenty years of age, was HO out of health,
that she was incapable of taking charge of the family.
A few years before, she had had such a violent attack of
typhus fever, that she never after recovered her health.
I was obliged, of course, to employ two or three females
in my family for a number of months. Medical endeav
ors seemed to be of no avail, in behalf of either my wife
or daughter. The church and society, and all my neigh
bors, were exceeding kind. I wras also under especial
obligations to individuals of the Congregational society,
from whom I received signal favors.

At this period, I was in the fiftieth year of my ftgev I
call the first twenty-five years of my life the morning of
my days. This was overcast and frequently boisterous,
but my meridian was bright and almost cloudless. It is
true, that in a period so eventful for wrecking and over
turning ol empires and kingdoms, it was to be expected
that I should have to endure those little crosses and per
plexities to which mortals generally are subject; but I
liad no trials to be compared with those which I had
previously suffered. That righteous God, who had in
dulged me with so much prosperity in the meridian of

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 225

my life, saw cause to reserve for me some adversity for
the evening of my days, which has proved to be dark
and stormy. It is possible, nevertheless, that my sun
may set clear; which may God, of his infinite mercy
grant, through Jesus Christ my Lord.

The winter of 1814 — '15, was a trying season to me.
There appeared no prospect of my wife's recovery, and
but very little in favor of my daughter.

Towards the spring of 1815, the physicians seemed to
indulge some faint hopes that Mrs. B. might recover,
but were soon convinced that their hopes were abort
ive. She endured her very distressing illness with re
markable fortitude and patience, until the first day of
June, when she serenely departed this life, without a
struggle or a groan, that she might rest from her labors,
and enter into the joys of her Lord. In the 4?th num
ber of the Massachusetts Baptist Missionary Magazine,
No. 11, of vol. 4, pages 372 and 373, was published a
biographical memoir of Mrs. Sherburne, written by the
Rev. Wm. Bachelder, late of Haverhill, Mass., de
ceased.

Those only who have had the experience of losing
the wife of their youth, can fully enter into the feelings
of such an one. To me, at that time, the world seemed
completely revolutionized; yet I presume that my case
was not different from many others. We had lived to
gether almost twenty-four years. She left an only son,
in the twentieth year of his age: — he has always been
sickly. My daughter was so unwell that she could not
attend her mother's funeral. Towards the fall, howev
er, she partially recovered her health, but not so as to be
able to take care of the family.

226 MEMOIRS or

CHAPTER XL

Takes an appointment as a Missionary — He marries
again — Defers his Mission and preaches several
months at South Reading —Goes on a Mission in the
States of New- York and Pennsylvania — Removes
icithhis family to Ohio — Dangers m descending- the
Allfghany and Ohio — Inflammation of the eyes —
Family sick — Himself sick in Ohio — On his return
from Ohio, he is taken sick in Middletown, Con. —
Arrives at Kennebunk — Returns to Ohio and removes
his family into the State of N. York.

FOR several years last past, while my wife was in
heath, 1 had felt strongly inclined to go to the State of
Ohio. Under the impression that the land was cheap
and good, and having but one son, and he but a feeble
thing, I was very desirous to procure and leave a little
inheritance for him; if, in the order of Divine Provi
dence, he should survive me. But my wife could nev
er endure the thoughts of leaving the place where she
was very happily united with the little church, that, un
der God, we had been the instruments of raising up,
(for she was indeed a help-meet, both temporally and
spiritually,) nor could I feel myself at liberty to remove
without her consent.

I had no prospect of paying my debts, without selling
my little farm, consisting of about thirty-seven acres of
land. Elder Bachelder, formerly of Berwick, but at
that time pastor of the Baptist church in Ha verb ill, was
an intimate acquaintance, and a particular friend of
mine. He was a member of the board of the Massachu
setts Missionary Society, and proposed to me to engage
in a three months' mission in the interior of the State of
New-Hampshire. When the board met, in the au
tumn of 1815, they gave me the appointment for three
mouths, but I found it very difficult to leave either my
family or the church and society. The situation of my
family was such that I was obliged to hire one girl con-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 227

stantly, and sometimes two. I therefore thought it ex
pedient that I should marry again, and in December,
1815, I married Miss Betsey Miller, a young woman
whom I had baptized about thirteen years before. In
the summer of'1816, I attended the Warren Associa
tion, as a messenger from the New-Hampshire Associa
tion, to which all the churches in the county of York, in
Maine, at that time belonged.

My object in attending the Warren Association, was
to obtain an interview with the members of the mission
ary board, and if agreeable to them, to perform my mis
sionary services in the State of New- York, instead of
New-Hampshire. In a conference with Dr. Baldwin,
the chairman of the board, he presumed that the board
would have no objection, and proposed that I should take
a mission for six months. The board was to meet the
next week, on the day preceding the sitting of Boston
Association. On the Sabbath between the sitting of the
Warren and Baptist Associations, I was requested to
preach to the Baptist church in South Reading, ten
miles from Boston. This church being at that time des
titute of a pastor, and understanding that I contemplat-
ted going on a mission, requested that I should spend
the time with them. I informed them that I did not feel
myself at liberty to serve them, unless the measure
should meet the cordial approbation of the board. The
church therefore appointed a committee to confer with
the board on the subject, who willingly complied with
the request of the church, and also agreed to employ me
six months on a mission, if it would agree with my
wishes.

I served this church about four months, and was very
agreeably accommodated in the family of Mr. Thomas
Evans, brother to elder George Evans. This church
would have employed me longer, but I had so great a
desire to travel in the western country, that I was resolv
ed, by God's permission, to goon the mission.

By my own request, the Baptist church and society in
Arundel had not raised any tax for me for a number of
years; for after the embargo, and the subsequent war
commenced, a large proportion of the people found it

223 MEMOIRS OF

very difficult to support their families. There are gen*
erally some delinquents: — there were individuals of the
society who insisted that delinquents should be distrain
ed upon for their taxes.

At an annual meeting of the society, I remonstrated
against this measure, and observed that I could not feel
myself at liberty to take any man's money that was forc
ed away from him. I told them I would serve them as
long as I could, and would take what individuals were
disposed to give me. Some highly applauded, and
others censured me, on account of the principles I pro
fessed. Some said they would continue to pay at the
same rate that they had previously done; and others said
they would give me more: — in fact there were numbers
who were not able to give any thing. I do not recol
lect to have heard any complaint when I engaged in the
aforesaid mission.

On the first day of February, 1817, I set out on my
mission. I passed through Concord, in New-Hamp
shire, and Northampton, in Massachusetts, and crossed
the Green Mountains in Beckett. The weather on the
14th was the most severe 1 had ever experienced. I left
elder Silas Kingsley's, at 9 o'clock, A. M. and rode
about four miles, to Elieda Kingsjey's, and found that
one of my thumbs was frozen. I stopped two or three
hours, and started again, and arrived at the house of a
good old brother, Henry Veats, on the height of land,
and found I had frozen both cheeks and one ear. I was
exceedingly chilled, but in this friendly family every at
tention was paid me. I afterwards learned that a num
ber had perished that day, which was denominated the
cold Friday. The next day I arrived at elder Jesse
Hartwell's, in New-Marlborough.

I had been instructed by the missionary board, to call
on elder Hartwell, and travel with him to the county of
Bradford, Pa. where he was to leave me, and proceed
on his mission to the State of Ohio. My labors were
confined principally to the county of Bradford, until th«
first of July. On the second of July, I assisted in the
ordination of elder Levi Baldwin, in the State of New-
York, not far from Oswego village, and on the fourth of

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 229

July I assisted in the ordination of elder Benjamin
Ovett, at the court-house in Spencer, in Tioga county,
State of New- York. I preached on both those occa
sions.

I continued to journey westerly, preaching alternate
ly in New-York and Pennsylvania, and arrived at An
gelica, in Alleghany county, New-York, on the twenty-
first of July. Here I had the satisfaction of receiving
a letter from my family, from which I had been absent
almost six months, and another from elder Daniel Sharp,
Secretary of the hoard, informing me that I was author
ized to continue my mission four months longer. I visi
ted Olean point, on the Alleghany river, and coasted up
that river about twenty-five miles into Pennsylvania. I
then travelled northerly to the head waters of the Catta-
rau^us, and westerly down that river to Lodi, within
eight miles of Lake Erie. I then returned by a differ
ent route to Angelica, and then took my old track
through the counties of Steuben and Tioga, in New-
York^ and in Tioga and Bradford, in Pennsylvania. I
then coasted up the Susquehannah to Chenango Point,
and up the Chenango to Norwich. I then considered
myself off missionary ground, and made the best of my
way home, where I arrived about Christmas, after hav
ing been absent frommy family and friends almost eleven
months.

During my absence, I had a son born, on the first day
of August, whose name we call Andrew Miller. There
is, therefore, ulmost twenty-twolyears difference in the
age of my first and second son.

As my report of this mission was published in the
Massachusetts Baptist Missionary Magazine, I have
thought best to give but a short sketch of my travels,
<fec. I would observe, however, that I spent most of
iny time in the newest settlements, where the roads in
general were very bad, and in a season when provisions
were more scarce than they had ever been since the set
tlement of that country.

Some of the people had to go sixty miles for grain;
and some of the poorer inhabitants begged the bran of
those who were in better circumstances, to make bread
20

230 MEMOIRS O'F

of, and some were entirely destitute for many days,
A person engaging in such a mission must calculate
to endure much fatigue, and many privations. To trav
el frequently, five, ten and sometimes fifteen miles or
more, without seeing a single human dwelling, in a dark
woods and muddy road, four or five hundred miles from
home, and altogether among strangers, is calculated to
excite some gloomy feelings and prompt a wish to enjoy
the pleasures of one's own fire side, and the pleasant
circle of intimate friends and acquaintance.

It is no small alleviation to such feelings, however, to
fall in with a family by whom you are most cordially
greeted as a father, or a brother, who has been long ab
sent; or to fall in with a little assembly, whose ears and
hearts are open to hear u the words of this life."

I never had occasion to complain of meeting with a
cold reception, in any family I visited in all this long
tour.

I never attended a single funeral in all the time I was
absent from home; but on my return, I found that near
ly fifty of my acquaintance in Arundel and in the towns
adjacent were no more. The principal object which
induced me to request the board to change my mission
from New-Hampshire to New- York, was, that I might
find a proper place to which I could remove my family.
Mr. Timothy Kezer, of Kennebunk, of the Baptist
church, and an intimate friend of mine, had resolved to
remove into some part of the western country, and it
was our mutual wish to settle in the same neighborhood.

When I returned from my missionary tour, I found
that Mr. Kezer had removed to the state of Ohio, and
settled himself in the town of Batavia, in the county
ofClermont, about twenty miles from Cincinnati. I
immediately wrote him, ami shortly after received a very
friendly and pleasing answer. I was resolved to follow
him. The next summer I sold my place, paid my debts,
and procured a span of good horses and a new wagon,
and got ready to start for Ohio on the twenty-fifth of
August, 1818.

Although I had no family connexions in this place, it
was no small trial to leave a large circle of interesting

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 231

friends, where I had spent fifteen of my happiest years.
To me, however, it appeared the path of duty, and al
though the order of a wise and mysterious providence
cannot be reversed, I have since, been fully convinced,
that in this undertaking I did not make it a subject of
prayer, and humble inquiry before God, as I should
have done, and that I was by far too much impelled by
worldly interest.

My impressions were, that if my life should be con
tinued a few years, I might leave my family in the pos
session of a good farm in Ohio, which would prove to
them a comfortable support.

Little did I apprehend of the trials through which I
had to pass, and the dangers to which I was to be ex
posed.

According to our purpose we set out on the twenty-
fifth of August, and 1 having acquaintance all the way to
Boston, it was thought best to commence this long jour
ney by short stages. When we took our leave of friends
and acquaintance along the way, it was under the im
pression that we should see each other's face no more
in this state of existence.

In South Reading I left my family and team at my
old friend, Thomas Evans', several days, while I visited
my friends in Boston. In Reading, my wife had a gen
erous present in shoes, from Mr. B. B. Willey, which
supplied her for a number of years. The same gentle
man had made her several valuable presents before. In
such ways the favors of divine providence are manifest
ed.

Nothing remarkable transpired with us until we came
within two miles of the village of Belchertown, in Mas
sachusetts, where I had designed to put up that night;
but just as the sun was sitting, our hinder axle broke
down. This circumstance, at such a time of the day,
placed us in a very unpleasant predicament. Our child,
(a little more than a year old,) was quite troublesome.
It was therefore my first concern to get a harbor for my
wife and child. In this I had good success, and got
them in with a friendly family, about thirty rods from
my wagon; which was in such a narrow place in the

232 MEMOIRS OF

road that another tenm could not pass. I had therefore
to unload it and get it out of the way. The next day I
got my family and goods to the village, and put up
with elder Marshall, who had recently moved into the
place. On inspecting my wagon, it was found neces
sary to have a new set of axletrees, and it being Satur
day, we had no prospect of getting under way again un
til Monday, for I never travelled any on the Sabbath un
til I got on the Alleghany river. We were hospitably
entertained by elder M. I preached for him on the
Sabbath, and on Monday afternoon got ready to set out
again.

We pursued our journey towards Albany, but had to
hire a team to help us over the mountains. At Albany
we called at elder Joshua Bradley's, He was at that
time attending the commencement at Brown Universi
ty, but his lady treated us with marked attention. Here
we spent another Sabbath, and I preached part of the
day to the Baptist church. We had gone but a few
miles from Albany before we were obliged to get our
axletrees shortened, and this circumstance compelled
us to fix a bolster on our hind axletree, so as to raise the
body of the wagon above the naves of the wheels. The
eastern people made so little use of wagons, that tbey
knew no better than to secure the body of the wagon
on the hinder axle, nor had I knowledge enough to give
any better directions.

Before I set out on this journey, I had designed to
have kept a journal, but I had so many other cares, and
was so fully employed, that I never wrote a single line
in my book. Although my memory is very treacherous,
yet the most important occurrences are fresh in my mind.

At this time the tide of emigration was sitting strong
ly to the West. When I was at Olean Point, in the
summer of 1817, I was told that more than three hun
dred families descended the Alleghany in the spring
freshet, and I think it highly probable that as many went
into the western states by the way of Pittsburg and
along lake Erie. Mr. Kezer informed me that he saw
two rafts of boards lashed together, from Olean, on
which were thirteen families, their wagons, and part of

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 233

their horses. He also mentioned an instance, in which
a raft from Olean brought down more than one hundred
persons.

It cost some of those families all their property to
move into that country, and indeed many set out who
were almost destitute of property when they started.
The emigrants generally furnished their own provisions,
and paid a certain rate at taverns for the use of cook
ing utensils and table furniture; and in most instances
carried their own beds to sleep on. In many instances
they were not very welcome guests at taverns, as there
was not much to be gained by such customers. Wher
ever we put up at a tavern, we hired our lodging.
Whenever I could make it convenient, I put up with my
Baptist brethren.

One evening I put up at a public house in a small vil
lage, and in the morning there was an appearance of a
heavy storm. I enquired of the landlord whether there
were any Baptist farmersonthe road, afew miles ahead;
he could not inform me of any, but observed that there
was a Baptist lawyer, who had an office in the village.
I called at his office to make the enquiry. I wished to
have gone on six or eight miles, as I had'a covered wag
on, but the lawyer chose to have me go to his own
house; and when he came home at noon, (for he was
engaged in business in his office,) he requested that we
would make ourselves contented until he should think
it proper for us to go on. We tarried several days,
one of which was the Sabbath, and when we went on,
this lady bountifully replenished our stock of provisions.
I believe he was the first Baptist lawyer I had ever seen.

When I got on to Rushford, in the Holland purchase,
I struck on to my old missionary track, where we were
courteously received and entertained by Messrs. Free
man, Going, M'Call and Benjamin. We tarried with
these friends a week or ten days, in which time I visited
Olean, and they would have us tarry longer. We were
now within thirty miles of Olean, but the water was not
sufficiently high for boats to descend the river.

Judge M'Call advised me to go no farther; but I had
set my face to go to Ohio, and to Ohio I must go.
20*

234 MEMOIRS OF

When I was at Olean, the year before, I had made
my principal home at Judge Brooks'; and he engaged,
that in case I should move my family, lie would take me
into his house, and accordingly did so. There were
probably a hundred families new waiting for the water
to rise, that they might descend the river; and the num
ber daily increasing. Many of them could obtain no
other habitation than their wagons, until they could pro
cure boards or slabs, to build what they called a shantce.
They would, with boards, stakes and withes, build a kind
of sheep's pen, and cover it with boards or slabs, fre
quently without any floor but the ground, and sometimes
two or three families would camp together in those
shantces.

In this little village, situated among large smutty pine
stumps, were five or six taverns, three or four stores,
and probably twenty or thirty other houses. It was a
place of real speculation. Among the emigrants wero
characters of almost all descriptions: — some very rich,
and others extremely poor. Speculators were there
from various parts of the country, for the purpose of
buying up horses from the emigrants, who were fre
quently glad to get rid of them, at almost any price,
as horse keeping was very high. They could seldom
sell them for cash, but were obliged to take goods at
an extravagant price. Olean point was denominated
the "jumping off place" as frequently persons in des
perate circumstances would "clear out," (as it was cal
led,) and hasten to this place, step or jump on board the
first boat in which they could obtain a passage, and be
off. Sometimes, however, they were overtaken by a
wife, or a creditor, before they had opportunity to em
bark. A small unfinished rcom would let for a dollar
per week, and there were many erected for that purpose.

Provisions were very dear; flour at six dollars per hun
dred; bacon and butter at twenty-five cents per pound,
and other provisions in proportion. We were detained
seven weeks in this place, before there was a sufficiency
of water in the Alleghany for boats to descend. My horses
cost me one hundred and forty dollars, but I did not sell
them for more than half that price.

ANDREW 3HERBURNE,

One Major Shepherd, with whom I had some acquain
tance at Tioga point, the year before, had built a con
venient boat to take his family down the river. He of
fered me a passage for ten dollars. I took my family on
board on the second day of December, in the afternoon,
and in company with several boats pushed off for Ohio;
having on board several passengerSj who boarded with
Major Shepherd.

We had already been almost four months on our jour
ney; and our long detention at Olean — the excessive
high price of house-rent, and provisions — together with
the approach of winter, and the probability of the fall of
the river in a short time — all conspired to induce us to
hasten on our journey.

I was much pleased on pushing off into the channel of
the Alleghany, in company with lour or five other boats.
Imagination could scarcely paint a more pleasant scene.
It was perfectly calm; the river about fifty yards wide in
this place, and beautifully overhung on either side with
majestic and spreading trees. The gentle current, slo
ping banks, and serpentine course, presented such a
beautiful prospect as could not fail to elevate the mind
of any one possessed of sensibility.

I had now once more launched out upon this delusive
and treacherous element, which had heretofore, in so
many instances, proved so disastrous. I scarcely anti
cipated any further difficulty, until we should have arrived
on the pleasant banks of the Ohio. As we were thus se
curely gliding down the stream, without the least appre
hension of danger, at about the going down of the sun,
we ran upon an old log in the middle of the river, and
stuck fast. To my shame I would speak it, I did not
apply the admonition of Watts, in the following lines,
while I was feasting my fancy:

" We should suspect some danger nigh,
When we possess delight.'*

We immediately got out our setting poles, and found
the water to be about ten feet deep, and the log elevated
from the bottom at an angle of about forty or fifty de-

236 MEMOIRS OF

grees. We could wheel our boat round and round on
the log, but could not get her off. It was indeed appal
ling to be thus fast moored, and see the other boats of
our little fleet all pass by and leave us.

We were in league with a Mr. Abbott, who had his
sons and sons-in-law, and daughters and daughters-in-
law with him, in a boat about as large as ours. They
having gone on about a mile, and finding that we did not
come on, were faithful to their engagements, landed, and
came back to our assistance. But it was now nearly
dark, and we had no skiff or canoe, and lay fast in the
middle of the river, in ten feet of water. There was no
alternative for us but to remain where we were until
morning, although in imminent danger of filling and sink
ing; for the bow of our boat was already six inches higher
than our stern, and the river was falling, and the more
the river fell, the more our danger increased. As might
be expected, our women were much frightened; and if
the men were equally so, they kept it to themselves.

We having on board a Mr. S. a Free-will Baptist
preacher, and a deacon M., a Presbyterian, as might be
expected, we had prayers that evening. God was gra
ciously pleased to preserve us until morning, and our
comrades came early to our assistance. They cut two
or three long poles, and lashed end to end so as to reach
us. We caught the poles and chained them to our boat,
and the men on shore, by my direction, rigged what sail
ors call a " Spanish windlass," and shortly drew us off
the log. To our great joy we rejoined our comrades,
and went on pleasantly: — but alas! there were yet trou
bles ahead.

We shortly came in sight of several boats which were
fast upon the ripples, and the men out in the water en
deavoring to heave them along with handspikes, and it
was shortly our lot to be in the same predicament. We
all succeeded however in getting over; and passing on
a few miles, found ourselves in a similar condition, and
we had repeated scenes of this kind that day, and at
night stopped at the head of Jemmison's islands, which
were dangerous to pass. The channel was narrow and
crooked, and the water very rapid, and there were some

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 237

dangerous obstructions in the way. On the morning of
the third day, we found ourselves surrounded with ice.
We lay in a cove where the water was still, and the ice
was about an inch thick. We broke away the ice and
. pushed into the stream, and descended the rapids without
injury.

Hitherto my age and infirmities had exempted me
from exposing myself to the water, but I was now oblig
ed to assist, for sometimes it took two or three boats'
crews to get over a ripple. I was thus exposed two
days in succession, sometimes in the water half an hour
at a time, and sometimes up to my middle. On the fourth
night aftei we started, there came a heavy rain, and
raised the river five feet perpendicularly. The storm
terminated with snow, which was five or six inches deep.
The velocity of the current was now much increased,
which greatly facilitated our passage to Conawango
creek. Here were a number of large rafts of boards and
timber ready to set off. Their owners were depending on
men who might be coming down in boats, to help them
work their rafts. It was moreover an advantage to a
boat to join a raft, for they got along much faster, and
the raft men had the privilege of cooking, and sleeping
under cover, in the boat.

A Mr. Woodworth had two large rafts, with which he
was bound to Maysville, Kentucky. Mr. Abbott's boat
joined to one of those rafts, and our boat to the other.
It was Mr. Woodworth's design to join all together when
we got into the Ohio.

Our pilot had the misfortune to run our raft on to
Deadman's ripple, fifteen mihs below Pittsburg, about
an hour before day light. The other raft was at that
time some distance ahead. Our raft was swung round
by the stream and completely shut our boat in on the
head of the island. The water was fast falling, and it
was with difficulty we got off our boat. After some
hours labor, we proceeded on and came up with Wood-
worth's raft and Abbott's boat, at Beaver creek, thirty
miles from Pittsburg. The Ohio had fallen ten feet
since the last rain, and the ice was increasing very fast.
Two young men, who were going down in a skiff, very

233 MEMOIRS OF

gladly joined our raft, and their skiff was of great ser
vice to us. By the time we got to Steubenville. seventy-
three miles from Pittsburg, the river was almost cov
ered with ice. I was under the necessity of landing at
Steubenville, to purchase a book called the navigator.

The river was so much obstructed with ice, we had
some difficulty in landing, and much greater in coming
up with our raft again, which we did not effect in some
hours. Our raft at length became entirely unmanagea
ble; in despite of all we could do, it would turn about in
the river, and the broken ice would pile up two or three
feet thick upon the raft when it swung round.

At length we were driven on the Kentucky shore, in
the night. We were all very much alarmed at the ter
rific rumbling of the raft against the ice and the shore.
The ice was in many places piled three or four feet thick
on the shore, and sometimes the large sheets of ice, con
taining three or four, and sometimes even ten acres,
would rush against the raft with a tremendous crash.
Fortunately for us, the boats were frozen fast to the raft,
and the ice on the side where the boats were, was much
firmer than elsewhere.

In the morning we succeeded in making fast to the
shore, but were soon broken away again by the ice. At
length, Mr. Burke, a lawyer, came down to the shore,
and advised us to fall a large sycamore tree into the riv
er, a little above our raft, in order to turn away the ice.
In this we succeeded, and had a safe harbor, where we
lay several days until the ice had chiefly ran out of the
river. By this time the raft had grounded; we then took
our boats, and in about three days we Janded at New
Richmond, twenty miles above Cincinnati, and ten miles
from Batavia, whither we were bound.

Major Shepherd went on to Cincinnatti, was violently
attacked with a fever, and died in about a week; — he was
about forty-five years of age, and a fine, healthy, robust
man. He had been but very little more exposed than
myself, and when he left us, was in perfect health and
in good spirits. Thus my brothers, sisters, and acquain
tances, are cut down — my comrades and shipmates have
fallen by hundreds, and I am still spared. May God, of

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 239

his infinite mercy, prepare me that I may be ready when
he calls.

The next day after \ve landed, I took a horse and went
to Batavia to see my friend Kezer, who had been long
looking for me. 1 was joyfully welcomed by the whole
family. ' His wife was an amiable woman, and highly
esteemed by all who were acquainted with her. The
next day Mr. K. procured a wagon and horses, and
also a span of horses for the wagon which I had taken
down the river with me, and on the following day he took
me and my family to his house, January 1st, 1819. I
was four months and five days on my tedious and ex
pensive journey.

Batavia in Ohio, now the county town of Clermont
county, is situated on the north bank of the east branch
of the little Miami river, ten miles from the Ohio, and
twenty from Cincinnati. Having hired a small house,
and partially settled my family concerns, 1 bought a horse
and visited a number of persons with whom I had been
acquainted in Maine. There was a Baptist church with
in three miles, but they had a pastor; there were several
others within fifteen miles, who were generally unsup-
plied with preachers. The Methodists occupied the
ground in Batavia, I however preached occasionally for
them. Towards spring my wife was quite out of health.
My son John was also enfeebled by an hemorrhage of the
lungs or stomach. Having a little money of his own, I
advised him to purchase some village lots which w£re
then rising in value. He purchased four, containing one
acre of land, for which he gave one hundred and fifty
dollars. In six weeks after, he could have taken two
hundred dollars for them, but in six month** he could not
have obtained fifty dollars for the whole.

On the 16th of June, my third son was born. About
this time I read Riley's narrative; in consequence of
which I became so partial to Wm. Willshire, the British
Consul at Mogadore, that I was desirous to perpetuate
his name, not however to the exclusion of that of my
brother Samuel, whom I have before mentioned. We
therefore called the boy Samuel William Willshire.
About this time little Andrew began to decline rapid-

240 MEMOIRS OF

ly, under extreme weakness of the bowels, and there
seemed but little prospect of his recovery. In Septem
ber, I was exceedingly distressed with an inflammation
of the eyes, which continued several months. During
several weeks, I was obliged to keep house, and have the
windows all darkened. These circumstances obliged us
to hire a girl, at a dollar per week, most of the time.

Under such circumstances, I was in a fair way to be
come moneyless in a short time. Before I left Maine,
I had, through the agency of Judge Thatcher, before
named, made application to the Secretary of War, for a
pension. The application was made in April, 13] 8, but
I received no returns from the War department. I wait
ed until July, and thought that it was requisite I should
make some further efforts.

A Mr. Wm. P. Prebble, district attorney, (the son of
Col. Prebble of Old York, deceased, who was a veteran
of the revolution,) for some cause, became quite partial
towards me, and cheerfully proffered his services to fur
nish me with a new set of papers, which should have the
signature of A. K. Paris, Esq. district judge, who has
since been the Governor of Maine. The district judge
was the most proper officer through whom to make ap
plication for pensions. The 8th of July, the district
court held its session at Portland, and of course Marshal
Thornton was there; therefore, having reference to
Thornton and Prebble. I might venture to say I had two
frfends in court. To the judge I was a stranger, but
my friends introduced me to him as a Baptist clergyman;
and after my documents were completed, the Judge had
the politeness to address a private letter to Mr. Cal-
hoiin, the Secretary of War, representing me as " a meri
torious character," and expressing his hope that I should
succeed. Mr. Prebble advised me to obtain, if possible,
the depositions of some of the officers of the Ranger, to
prove that I had served on board of her. I knew but two
of the Ranger's crew who were living, except my uncle,
James Weymouth, and myself. They were both officers:
viz. Elijah Hall, Esq. of Portsmouth, and Lieut. Morris,
of Berwick. Hall was first Lieutenant of the ship, and
Morris was Lieutenant of marines. I obtained the de-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 241

positions of those gentlemen, and after reaching Ohio,
I forwarded my papers to General C. Storer, a Senator
from New-Hampshire, and the Hon. J. Holmes, a Sen
ator from Maine. I wrote those gentlemen on the third
of February, 1819, requesting them to use the deposi
tions in support of my first application, if it should be
found in the office, in order that my pension might com
mence at the date of my first application; for by this
time cash was so scarce with me, that the pension from
April to July was an object of consequence. I was ap
prehensive that Messrs. Storer and Holmes would leave
Washington before my letter would arrive, and on the
12th of February I wrote to the Secretary of War, stat
ing the case to him fully.

About the first of March I received letters from Messrs.
Storer and Holmes, informing that they had been to the
office and obtained a promise that my certificate should
be forwarded. About the 20th of March, I received a
communication from Mr. 1. L. Edwards, informing me
that mine of the 12th of February, to the Secretary of
War, had been sent to that office, and that it did not ap
pear, from the records of that office, that my application
had ever been received. I was <c taken all aback," as a
sailor would say; and after pondering awhile, I wrote the
Secretary a long letter: — I told him "the truth, the whole
truth, and nothing but the truth," and some time in May,
I received a most acceptable answer, viz. a pension cer
tificate, commencing at the date of my first application.

It seemed that there had been some unaccountable
blunder in the office. This pension was now my sheet
anchor, but I had received but one payment before my
cable was cut away, and all the pensioners struck adrift
again.

Towards the fall, my son John got some better, but my
wife and Andrew, still continued quite feeble. In No
vember, Mr. Kezer went down the Mississippi, and on
his return in the spring, soon after he entered the Ohio,
was attacked with a fever, and in a few days died; leav
ing a large family strangers in a strange land. Towards
the spring, Mrs. Sherburne's health was much more im
paired. In March we moved into the county of Brown,
21

242 MEMOIRS OP

in the neighborhood of the village of Ripley. My wife
was ill able to endure the journey, of about thirty miles,
and was in a feeble state through the summer, and a con
siderable part of the time entirely confined to her bed.

Government having stayed the payment of pensions to
the revolutionists, we were under the necessity of going
through a round of ceremonies. We were to make out
a schedule of our property, and attest to its correctness
before a court of record, &c. To report the names,
ages, number and condition of our families. By reason
of some informality, all the applications from the county
of Brown were returned. I took my papers from the
file, had them corrected, and forwarded them to J. W.
Campbell, Esq. who was a representative from the coun
ty of Brown. This gentleman particularly attended to
my business, and forwarded to me the certificate of the
continuation of my name on the pension roll, dated Jan
uary 15th, 1821.

While in this place, I partially supplied the churches
of Red Oak andDecatur. I lived within the bounds of
Red Oak church a year and a half. The members were
quite scattered, and many of them poor; I was conse
quently much dependant on my friends. I cannot for
get the especial favors I received from Dr. Campbell of
Ripley, who at all times gratuitously attended my family
in sickness, while I resided in this place.

In the Autumn of 1821, I visited the churoh in Berlin,
in the county of Delaware, one hundred miles north of
Ripley. They invited me to remove my family there, to
which I agreed; and they sent teams and removed me at
their own expense.

I took up my residence with a Baptist brother, whose
name was John Johnson, and found him and his family
very friendly. Soon after our arrival my wife waa taken
sick, and was confined to her bed several weeks. In
the winter of 1822, I taught a school in Berlin. In this
place I contemplated procuring a few acres of land and
building a log house, and in order that I might be nearer
to the place where I contemplated building, I removed
into the house of another Baptist brother, by the name of
Nathan Sherwood. While residing with this friendly

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 243

family I had occasion to make a journey to the counties
of Clermont and Brown; and narrowly escaped being
drowned in the Sciota river. I was unacquainted with
the ford way, and although I had been particular in en
quiring respecting the depth of water, I did not get pro
per views of the direction in which I should have passed
this river. I entered in a plain wagon road, but my sight
was very poor, and it being foggy, I could not discern
the landing place on the other side. I should have as
cended the river in the middle, several rods further,
where the water was shallow, but my horse was inclined
to strike for the shore, and I suffered him to take his
own way. He soon began to swim; the wagon sunk
and swung down with the current: but he was a power
ful animal, and reached the shore and drew me up a
very steep bank on to a bench of the river. The horse
trembled like a leaf, but he was not more frightened than
his driver. In view of the danger, I trembled and was
astonished — I discovered that if the stream had swept
me down a few rods further, I could not possibly have
landed, nor were there any near to have come to my
assistance ! " O, that men would praise the Lord for
his goodness and for his wonderful works to the children
of men! And let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanks
giving and declare his works with rejoicing."

The Lord saw fit to defeat rny design of building, for
in August, 1822, 1 was violently attacked with that dis
tressing disease, the fever and ague, which continued
until November. For the first week 1 had a fit only
every other day, but after that every day, and constantly
attended with delirum.

This disease very much reduced my body, mind, and
purse, and left me quite poor. The prospects before me
were gloomy indeed. As I began slowly to recover, my
wife declined in health; and my physicians informed me
that I should probably have another attack the next year.
I was at a loss what method to take: I felt as though I
could preach no more, I found my memory much impair
ed, and I could myself discover that I had become more
peevish than usual.

Our clothing, and especially our bedding, had not been

244 MEMOIRS OF

replenished for four years, nor was a single member of
the family able to earn any thing. I saw that although
my pension was of material service to me, it could not
do every thing.

I finally resolved to move my family into Columbus,
about twenty miles from Berlin. And I further resolved
to ask the general government to give me a small piece
of land, presuming that as I had been so partially remu
nerated for some of my services, and as there was yet a
quantity of land in Ohio unsold, and that some of it was
in small lots, I thought that under my peculiar circum
stances they would shew me some favor. It was my de
sign to visit the seat of government, and thence to jour
ney eastward and spend the next season, hoping to es
cape the fever and ague.

There were persons whom I considered as having good
information, who thought there was no doubt of my suc
cess. At any rate, I could petition with strong hope.
On reflection, I could recognize various distressing
scenes, when my circumstances were such as I could
make no effort for relief with the least possible prospect
of success. I came to the conclusion, that with my own
endeavors my country owed me a living, and whether the
government would help me or not, I was persuaded that
there were individuals who, if they knew my circum
stances, would freely afford me some relief. I was con
firmed in this idea from the circumstance of receiving
many friendly offices from several gentlemen, after I had
removed my family into Columbus.

Having made the best provision I could for my family,
I commended them to God, and set out for Washington
about the middle of January, 1823. On the 20th I fell
in company with elder J. M'Aboy, of Kentucky, and
rode with him to Marietta, where he introduced me to Ca
leb Emerson, Esq. another Baptist lawyer. In this place
I found E. Emerson, formerly a deacon in the Baptist
church in South Reading, when I preached at that place.
Mr. E. introduced me to the Rev. Mr. Robins, the Con
gregational minister, who invited me to preach for him
on the Sabbath, which I did three times — this was the
first of my preaching siqce my sickness. In this place I

ANDREW SHEREURNE. s 245

found Capt. N. Dodge, from New-Hampshire, with
whose father and family I was well acquainted. Mr.
Robins and others, solicited me to spend several days
and deliver several lectures. The person whom I have
here named, as well as others, manifested their friend
ship towards me. I was quite indisposed in consequence
of preaching frequently.

Having recruited myself and horse, I set forward on
my journey; passed up the Ohio, went through Wheeling
and on the Cumberland road to Cumberland, in Mary
land, where I arrived on Lord's day. Feb. 8th, I called
on the Rev. Mr. Kennedy, a Presbyterian, for whom I
preached in the evening. He introduced me to a young
Baptist preacher, by the name of Charles Pollard. He
was out of health. With him I spent the next day very
agreeably, it being stormy. Mr. Kennedy took my horse
from the tavern to his own stable, nor would Mr. Kripp,
the innkeeper, take any thing for my dinner or horse
keeping. On the 1 1th, as I was passing over a sheet of
ice which was covered with light snow, my horse fell sud
denly on his right side; he arose immediately; my right
foot was confined in the stirrup; the fall was so sudden
that I lost hold of the bridle, I tried to stop the horse by
speaking to him, but could not — he soon became fright
ened, and was on the point of starting on a gallop, when
the girth of the saddle broke and relieved me, after hav
ing been dragged about four rods. I was considerably
hurt by the fall, and if the girth of my saddle had not
broken, I should probably have been killed in a few min
utes. How mercifully has God interposed his power,
from time to time to preserve my life when in imminent
danger.

I arrived at Washington on the 17th of Feb. 1823, and
called on the Rev. Obadiah B. Brown, pastor of the Bap
tist church, and one of the principal clerks in the post-
oflice. I was affectionately received and entertained by
Mr. B. and his lady. Gov. Meigs, who was the post
master general, Col. R. M. Johnson, a senator from
Kentucky, and Maj. I. Johnson, a representative from
Kentucky, were boarders with elder Brown at this time.
I was by Mr. B. introduced to those gentlemen respec-
21*

24G MEMOIRS OF

lively, and as I became one of the family for eight or
ten days, I became partially acquainted with them. Maj.
Johnson was a member of the Baptist church.

I made it my first business to see Mr. J. N. Camp
bell, a representative from Ohio, whom I have before
mentioned, to whom I had forwarded my petition from
Marietta. He treated me with particular attention. He
informed me that he had presented my petition; that it
had been read and committed; but that he could give me
no encouragement that its prayer would be granted. I
took a walk to the capitol, and before I entered, exam
ined it without — a superb building indeed : I entered this
stately edifice. It would require some hours to walk
through and survey its interior. I could not but inquire
whether all this expense for show was necessary. While
walking in the capitol, to my surprise and joy, I met Mr.
Mark Harris, of the Baptist church in Portland, Maine,
one of my most intimate friends; he was a member of the
House of Representatives. In the evening, Mr. Harris
called to see me at Mr. Brown's. It was an object with
me to introduce the subject of my petition, and engage
the attention of those gentlemen who boarded with Mr.
Brown, as well as Mr. Harris, in its interest. They
were all agreed that my claim was just. It was known
that the chairman of the committee on such claims, was
hostile to the measure. They therefore would not ad
vise me to pay any further attention to it.

Governor Meigs observed that he would cheerfully
appoint me to a Post-office, worth four or five hundred
dollars per year, if there was any vacancy where it would
be convenient for me to be located. I observed to those
gentlemen that I must have some assistance from some
quarter, if I could obtain it by honest means; that I had
been unfortunate in removing my family to Ohio; that
they were in a helpless condition; that we hao) been re
duced to this condition by sickness and other misfor
tunes; that it was my lot to return from prison a beggar,
three times, during the war of the revolution; that beg
ging was a humiliating business, but that if there was no
other alternative, I must try it again. — As might be ex
pected, those gentlemen contributed something to my
relief.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 247

The next day the Governor observed to Mr, Brown,
that he thought Mr. S's hat was hardly becoming a Bap
tist clergyman, and requested a person to see that I was
furnished with a new hat.

The reader will probably recollect, that in the early
part of my narrative, I mentioned that I once set my
face to go to Alexandria, in Virginia, " to buy and sell
and geUrain," and that I was defeated in my purpose by
a British frigate. Now, being within a few miles of that
place, it seemed to be some object to visit it. As I was
a stranger, my brother Brown had the politeness to give
me a letter of introduction to Rev. Mr. Cone. 1 found
him and his lady very friendly and affectionate. I was
to preach for him the next day in the forenoon. Mr.
Cone inquired whether he should ask for a contribution
for me. I observed that as contributions were so com
mon on different occasions, that under present circum
stances I did not wish it — but if individuals who were in
easy circumstances, were disposed to afford me any as
sistance, it would be very acceptable. The next day
Mr. C. handed me six dollars, in addition to several
presents which he made me. I returned to Washington
on Tuesday, and with the Rev. Luther Rice and others,
visited Columbia College, and tarried all night with
Professor Chase.

On Lord's day, March 2d, preached for elder Brown
to the Baptist church in the city; and on the fourth of
March set out for Baltimore, was kindly received by Rev.
Messrs. Healy and Reese, and on Lord's day preach
ed to the third Baptist church, which was destitute of a
pastor. I put up with a brother, Wm. Cook, who had
an interesting family. Next Lord's day, I preached for
Mr. Reese and was invited home by a brother France,
whose family paid particular attention to me. I made
my home with Messrs. Cook and France, during the
time I was in Baltimore.

There had recently been a destructive fire at Alexan
dria, and Mr. Cone was among the sufferers.

On the third Lord's day in March, I preached for Mr.
Healey, at Fell's Point. At this church as well as at
the Ebenezer church, where Mr. Reese preaches, there

248 MEMOIRS OF

was a contribution made for me, amounting in the whole
to seven or eight dollars. In Baltimore I received
some assistance from several wealthy individuals, of the
Baptist denomination.

On the twenty-second of March, set out for Lancaster,
in Pennsylvania. Here I put up at Col. Slaugh's tav
ern. He was a revolutionary officer. I called on Rev.
Mr. Ashmead, the Presbyterian, and Rev. Mr. Muche-
lenburg, the Episcopal clergyman. They each of them
first gave me some money, and then recommended me to
the attention of some of the most wealthy of their con
gregations. Colonel S. advised me to go to Harris-
burgh: — accordingly, I did, and called on Dr. Loch-
morn, of the Lutheran church, and on the Rev. Wm.
De Witt, of the Presbyterian church. Those gentle
men, like their brethren in Lancaster, first bestowed
their charities upon me and then named some of their
more wealthy parishioners. I had fallen in with no man
since I left home, that manifested more sympathy for me
than did Mr. De Witt. He introduced me to Governor
Hester and several other gentlemen of distinction.

On Lord's day I went to hear Mr. De Witt in the
morning, and preached for him in the afternoon; and on
Monday evening attended a prayer meeting at Mr. De
Witt's house.

On the first of April I set out for Philadelphia; pass
ed through Lebanon and Reading; in each of those pla
ces I found generous friends. On the first Sabbath in
April I preached for Rev. C. Moor's people at Brandy-
wine church, near the Yellow Springs. They gave me
four dollars. At this place I was kindly entertained by
a brother John Tustin. In going on tmvard Philadel
phia, I passed over Gen. Washington's camp ground,
near Valley Forge, and was within a few miles of Pao-
li, where Gen. Wayne with a detachment of our army
was surprised. I went into a house, the family were of
the denomination of Friends. In conversation with the
old lady, I ascertained that I was in the very house
where Washington .made his head quarters. I recol
lected to have heard soldiers of my acquaintance, speak
of events which transpired here and at Paoli. My mind

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 249

was solemnly employed in contemplating the scenes
through which the revolutionists passed. I presume
that there was not one in ten living at that time.

I called on deacon E. Siter, at Siterville, on the
Lancaster turnpike road. The deacon and his lady
treated me with special attention. I called on elder
Horatio Jones, whom I found quite friendly; he and his
brethren gave me about ten dollars. On the ninth of
April I went into Philadelphia and put up with a broth
er, David Johns, at the sign of the white horse, in Bank
street. I visited Dr. H. Holcomb, Dr. Rogers and
Dr. Staughton. Dr. Holcomb invited me to preach for
him, as did Dr. Staughton. I at first declined; but fi
nally preached for each of them more than once before
I left the city. I received favors from all those gentle
men, as also from a number of their wealthy brethren. I
also called on Dr Ely, who treated me courteously and
gave me a book and three dollars.

In Philadelphia, I fell in with elder Daniel Lewis,
with whom 1 had been acquainted in Maine. He was
now preaching at Frankfort, a few miles from the city.
I spent a Sabbath with him and preached all day. His
people made a contribution for me.

I was invited to preach to a Baptist church, called the
Great Valley church, about fifteen miles from Philadel
phia. Deacon Siter, before mentioned, belonged to this
church. I complied with the request on two Sabbaths,
and also delivered a lecture or two. They gave me fif
teen dollars. Deacons Philips and Siter, and a brother,
Daniel Abrahams, gave me fifteen dollars more. My
horse, which'cost me seventy dollars and was the great
est part of my estate when I left Ohio, proved so lame
that I was afraid to* ride him. I therefore sold him
with my saddle and bridle for thirty dollars.

From the Great Valley I returned to Philadelphia;
bid an affectionate farewell to my friends, and took the
steam-boat for Bordentown. We then took the stage,,
passed through Trenton and Princeton to New-Bruns
wick, where my company took the steam-boat, and I
called on elder Daniel Dodge and Dr. Livingston. Mr.
Dodge gave me a dollar, and Dr. Livingston three,

250 MEMOIRS OF

The next day I embarked in the steam-boat for New-
York and called on elder Wm. Parkerson and was
treated kindly. The next day I met elder Johnson
Chase in the street, very much to his surprise. He was
an old acquaintance, and was glad to see me. He re
quested me to send my trunk to his house and make
that my home while I tarried in the city. He being a
man of wealth and having no family, I readily complied
with his invitation, although I was made welcome by
elder Parkerson.

Brother Chase introduced me to ' elders Sanford,
Williams and Smith. They .acted towards me the part
of brethren. While here I had the satisfaction to fall
in with elders Going, of Worcester, Sharp of Boston,
and Willey of Utica. G. and S. were old acquaintances.
They were returning from the Baptist General Conven
tion, which had been holden at Washington. They all
invited me to call, as I was expecting to pass through
their several towns.

While in the city, I had the pleasure of meeting with
three sea Captains from Kennebunk, with whom I had
been intimately acquainted, viz. R. Patterr, D. Nason,
and I. Ward. The last named had been one of my
scholars. Each of those gentlemen had the command
of a vessel bound directly for Kennebunk Port, and
each had the politeness to invite me to take a passage
with them, but it had been so long since I had been on
the sea, I was fearful { should be sea-sick. I there
fore declined accepting their kind offer.

I took an opporl unity to visit the navy-yard, directly
opposite to which, formerly lay that dismal ship, the old
Jersey. I passed over her remains, some of which I
could see laying in the bottom of the East river. Her
satellites, the hospital ships, three or four in number, had
disappeared. The navy-yard now occupies the ground
where thousands of the American prisoners were buried.
The " bank" was a high bluff of loose earth, under the
side of which, the dead were laid, wrapped up in a ham
mock or blanket, and a little sand or earth hauled down
upon them, was entirely removed. It caused my very
soul to thrill when 1 passed over the remains of that
wretched ship, and was approaching the shore to re-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 251

view the awful scenes I had witnessed, and the distress
ing suffering I had there endured through a long and
tedious winter, more than ibrty years ago, and where
more than two thirds of my shipmates had laid their
bones. I recollected to have read in the newspapers,
that the bones of the prisoners who had died on board
the prison ships were collected and deposited in a vault,
and a building erected over it. I designed to indulge
my curiosity in visiting the place, but I at once met with
an obstruction. A sentinel forbade my proceeding fur
ther; I informed him that I wished to see the command
ing officer. The sergeant of the guard was called, and
after a little ceremony I was permitted to enter and con
ducted to the door of his apartment I had not been
careful to acquaint myself with the. rules of naval eti
quette. The gentleman was a stranger to me, I do not
know that I had ascertained his name, I was equally a
stranger to him. I told the gentleman my name; in
formed him that I had belonged to the navy and had been
a prisoner on board the Jersey, and that being on a visit
to the city, I had a wish to see the Wallabout,, and had
crossed the river for that purpose. He had the polite
ness to inform me what route I might take to find it, but
.did not appear half so much interested in the matter as
1 was. I found the spot; I walked round it; I survey
ed it; I pondered and wondered that my bones had not
been scattered there long ago. I thanked and adored
my merciful Preserver, that I was yet spared, while al
most all my shipmates had been numbered with the
dead-

I retired from the navy-yard without molestation; re-
crossed the river and according to previous engagement,
called on deacon J. M. Fought, who accompanied me
to the residence of Colonel Henry Rutger and introduc
ed me to him. He received me courteously and in
formed me that he had the honor of waiting on Washing
ton and other Generals at his house. I referred to my
visit to the Wallabout. The Colonel went into a partic
ular detail of the matter, and gave an account of the
funeral procession on that occasion. A coffin filled with
the remains, was carried in procession through the priu-

25*2 MEMOIRS or

cipal streets, and conveyed back again and deposited at
the Wallabout. He was one of the pall-bearers. When
I took my leave of the Colonel he gave me a check on
the bank for ten dollars.

While Mr. Going was in the city, he invited me to ac
company him to visit a brother, D. H. Barnes. Mr. G.
introduced me to Mr. B. The time passed pleasantly
for a few minutes, for Mr. G. was in haste to take the
steam-boat. I think he did not sit down. When we re
tired I said to B. " Brother Barnes, I think I shall give
you another call, before I leave the city." "Well, broth
er S." said he, " if your object is any thing besides
money, I shall be glad to see you, but as for money, it
is very scarce with us." I made no reply and accom
panied Mr. Going to the steam-boat.

Some days after, I was walking the street with elder
Smith; said he, a will you call and see brother Barnes?"
I was so much of a stranger in the city, that I did not
know that we were at his door: we went in and found
Mr. Barnes very sociable. After some time I said to
him, " brother Barnes, how came you to intrench your
self so readily the other day, when I left you ?" After a
moment's hesitation, he replied, " O, I recollect, why,
we have no ministers out of the country call upon us
but what 'come for money, I therefore concluded that
was your object." I asked him if any one had inform
ed him what my object was. " O no," said he, " we
take it for granted, that if a minister out of the country
comes here, he is after money." I replied that I
had not been apprised that it was so generally the
case. " O yes," said he, " we have so many con
tributions here, on so many different occasions and
are so frequently called upon for money, that we
have got quite run out." I handed to him a certificate
which Dr. Rogers, and Dr. Staughton had given me,
together with another paper, and observed to him, that
mine was an extraordinary case and that I should indeed
be glad to gel a little money, but that I should prefer
getting it of those who were best able to spare it. He
declined taking the papers, saying it is of no conse
quence, brother Sherburne, for we have not the money

ANDREW 8HERBURNE. 253

to spare. I told him that he could look at the papers,
notwithstanding. He looked over them and replied,
*' Oh, were you one of the revolutionists, brother Sher-
hurne? I did not know that, we must do something for
you, for there are millions of us who are now enjoying
the fruits of the toils and sufferings of the revolutionists;
we scarcely know what hardships are, and if any class
of the community is deserving our particular attention,
it is the revolutionists: we must do something for you,
brother Sherburne." He handed me a dollar. "Now,"
said he, " brother Sherburne, if you could wear a coat
of mine, I would give you one." " Brother Barnes,"
said I, u that is out of the question, I cannot get into
your coat; but if you have one to spare, I have a son at
home who is an invalid, he is in want of a coat and is
not able to buy one; if you are willing to give, I will
endeavor to convey it to him." He opened his draw
er and took out a coat not half worn; he then brought a
good pair of pantaloons, a vest and a pair of shoes, alto
gether, I presume, worth more than ten dollars.

While in the city I preached several times for Mr.
Smith, and Parkerson, and once for Chase.

On the ninth of June I left New-York for New-Haven,
where I called on Dr. Morse, with whom I had a partial
acquaintance in Boston. He added his signature to the
certificate which Dr. Rogers and Dr. Staughton gave
me. Dr. M., professor Fitch, and several other gentle
men in N. H. contributed to my relief.

I made a short stop in New-Haven, being quite out of
health.

On the thirteenth, took the stage for Middletown. On
the 14th I had a distressing attack of the ague, preceded
by violent puking, while on a visit at a Mr. Roberts, a
little out of the city. While returning to the city I met
elder James A. Boswell, and Mr. Amos Bickwith, with
whom Mr. Boswell boarded. They had heard of me, and
were in search for me. I went home with them and in
formed them that as I had had one severe fit of ague, I
was apprehensive I should have more. I had been
threatened with this trying complaint while in Harris-
burgh, and more severely for several days while in the

'J54 MEMOIRS OF

city of N. York. It was decided upon that I should make
my home at Mr. Bickwith's. He with his lady were
members of the Baptist church. I was now seven hun
dred miles from my family, and three hundred from Ken-
neb unk port. I was confined to the house the next day,
and on the third, which was Sunday, I had another dis
tressing fit of the ague, attended with delirium. About
the twentieth of June, Dr. Cone was called. He is a
respectable physician, and a gentleman in his deport
ment. At this time I was exceedingly distressed with
hiccough. Soon after this the ague subsided.

On the 24th of June I was much distressed with hic
cough again, which increased to an alarming degree: —
iny stomach was extremely convulsed, and I could retain
nothing which I swallowed. My friends were much
alarmed. The next day Dr. Cone brought Dr. Miner
to see me. For several days I seemed convalescent, but
on the first of July , I was attacked with the typhus fever.
Until this time, Mrs. Prout, Mrs. Bickwith's mother, had
paid particular attention to me; she now became so much
indisposed, that they were under the necessity of pro
curing a Mrs. Jjyisan Stillman to attend on me.

Dr. Cone visited and prescribed for me twice a day,
gratuitously, for several weeks. For several days he
had but little hopes ofmy recovery. I was among stran
gers; but surrounded by friends. For two or three weeks
I was obliged to have watchers, and the citizens were
very kind in attending on me. The Baptist church made
two contributions for me, and a number of the brethren
made me private donations. Mr. E. Bounds and his
lady were particularly attentive, and supplied me with
various necessaries. I am under especial obligations to
Mr. Bradley. Mrs. Prout, Mr. Bickwith and his lady,
as well as Mrs. Stillman, were indefatigable in their ex
ertions for my relief and comfort.

I began to recover about the 15th of July, and on the
20th finished a letter to my wife, which 1 had commen
ced on the 16th of June. On the 30th of July, I put on
my clothes for the first time in four weeks, and elder
Boswell took me in his gig round one square. The next
day he took me to his own house. He told me that he

ANDREW SHERBURNE. t 255

had made arrangements to bury me. On the second of
August, he carried me to elder Enoch Green's, about
two miles from the city, where I spent two days. His
family were particularly attentive to me, while I was con
fined. When I left this good man, he presented me with
two dollars.

I have since been informed that elder Green, his ami
able consort, and one or more of their children, have paid
the debt of nature: — "And their works do follow them."

On the 5th of August, brother Bound very obligingly
took me in his carriage, and drove carefully to Weathers-
field, and left me with elder W. Bentley, who treated me
with attention, and the next day took me to Hartford,
and lodged me with deacon I. B. Gilbert. He and his
lady paid particular attention to me, aud liberally bestow
ed on rne their charities. I called on elder Cushman,
who certified my credentials to be satisfactory. The Rev.
I. Hawes manifested his sympathy, gave me a dollar,
and recommended me to the attention of his friends. I
am under especial obligations to a number of brethren
and other gentlemen in Hartford.

On the 13th of August, brother Gurdon Rabins took
me in a gig to Colchester, and lodged me with a Mr.
Turner. I was treated with marked attention, by this
family. I called on the Rev. Mr. Cone, the father of
my much esteemed friend, Dr. Cone of Middletown. —
Mrs. C. treated me affectionately.

On the 16th I took the stage for New- London, and
put up with brother Turner, where elder Loomis board
ed: here I was kindly entertained. On Monday, the
18th, I took passage to Norwich, in a packet boat, and
brother Loomis paid my passage to Norwich. I was in
haste to get on, and on the 21st I took the stage to Prov
idence, where I had especial attention paid to me by Dr.
Gano, with whom I had some personal acquaintance.
He treated me like a brother. On the Lord's day, the
24th, in the evening, I preached for Dr. G. in his con
ference room. At the close of the meeting, the Dr. ob
served to his congregation, that having recently called
frequently on them for contributions on different occa
sions, he had resolved not to ask again for a contribution

256 MEMOIRS OF

on any occasion for the present, and that he should ad
here to his purpose; but having had an account of my
revolutionary sufferings and recent misfortunes, and hav
ing been a sufferer himself in the revolution, he felt an
especial interest in my case. He would therefore recom
mend me to their attention; and observed that if any
were disposed to bestow any thing upon me, they might
bring it forward. They gave me about ten dollars. Mr.
John Snow, with whom I had been acquainted in Ohio,
introduced me to his father, (an old revolutionist,) and
to a number of other gentlemen, whose benevolence I
experienced.

I hastened to Boston, expecting to find a letter from
my wife, whose last communication I received in New-
York, dated the 12th of May. On my arrival at Boston,
I found myself at home, at Dr. Baldwin's. My first bus
iness was to visit the Post-office, where I found a letter
from my wife, in answer to mine from Middletown, in
forming me that my dear Wiltshire had been sick
through the summer with the ague. That a large num
ber of my acquaintance were no more, and that it was
unusually sick in Columbus. I had been from my fam
ily seven months, and was not yet to my journey's end
by more than a hundred miles. I was desirous once
more to see my aged mother and only surviving sister,
and other eastern friends, and extremely anxious to get
home.

In Boston I fell in with Capt. Luther Walker, who
married my adopted daughter, who was now no more.
He was about to sail for Kennebunk port; I went on in
the stage, and found him there.

Here I found my old friends very glad to see me, and
very much devoted to me, but none more so than my son-
in-law, Capt. W. He took me in his gig to Baldwin,
about forty miles, to see my brother Ingalls and family,
with whom my aged mother lived. 1 had become so
anxious to get home, that I could allow myself to make
but a short visit I spent too Sabbaths in this quarter,
preached twice at my old meeting-house, twice at the
Port, and once for elder Locke, and once for elder Rob
erts, J received generous contributions and donations.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. \\ ^y ^jj.

On the 23d of September, I took the sta£e for Ports-
mouth, where I received some assistance from Mr. I.
Cutter, and several other gentlemen, and soon after call
ed on Dr. Bowles.

I found him very friendly and affectionate; we had
been formerly acquainted with each other. He present
ed me with about twelve dollars, part of which was col
lected from his friends. I hastened to Boston, where at
the stage tavern, I fell in with several merchants and
ship-masters from Kennebunk, who generously contrib
uted to my assistance. Under my peculiar circumstan
ces, and those of my far distant family, I was daily ad
monished of the kindness of God in raising up friends to
furnish me with means to remove my family from a coun
try which was so unpropitious to our health. However
it may appear to others, I cannot deny myself the grat
ification of noticing with what cordiality I was received
by elders Baldwin and Sharp, and by brethren Ensign
and Heman Lincoln and others. Their sympathy to
ward me was not in word only, but in deed and truth.

I could make but a short stay in Boston; preached
once to brother Sharp's people, and was in haste to get
to Albany, where I expected to receive a letter from my
wife. My Boston friends and I parted with no expecta
tion of meeting again in time. Brother H. Lincoln af
fectionately accompanied me to the stage. I being fee
ble he assisted me to get in, and took his farewell, not
however, until he had farther extended to me his boun
ty. u It is more blessed to give, than to receive."

At. Worcester, I had but just time to call on brethren
Going and Goddard, and continued my journey toward
Albany. I had the agreeable company of a Dr. Lyman
of Troy for a considerable distance. We were the only
passengers in the stage. I am compelled to enroll this
gentlemen, as well as the two last mentioned, among the
list of my benefactors. At Albany, where I arrived on
Saturday evening, I was courteously received and enter
tained by elder L. Leonard, and deacon J. A. Burk. On
the Sabbath, I preached once to Mr. L.'s people. Elder
C. Philleo was at Albany at this time, and I having ac
quainted him, Mr. L. and others, with some of my histo-
00*

258 ME3IOIRS OF

ry in the state of Ohio, and having just received a letter
from my wife, informing me of the mortality in Colum
bus, and that she had had a severe attack of the prevail
ing fever; they advised me by all means to remove my
family from Ohio, to Verrion, in the county of Onedia
and state of New- York, where Mr. Philleo resided. I
was resolved to adhere to this counsel and took the stage
for Utica, and from thence by the packet boat to Roch
ester, thence I travelled by land to Buffalo. I then took
the steam boat for Sandusky bay, from thence I went up
the Sandusky river in a horse-boat, and took my passage
about one hundred miles in wagons to Columbus, where
I arrived on the 25th of October. Here, by the abound
ing mercy of a gracious God, I found my family in tol
erable health, after an absence of nine months, in which
time both they and myself had passed through very great
distresses. In thirty-three days I travelled more than a
thousand miles; I was resolved to leave the state of
Ohio. I had occasion to visit Ripley, about one hun
dred miles south, and had engaged a team to take me
on to New York as soon as I should return. In my long
and tedious journeys, the Lord had raised up friends to
furnish me with about three hundred and fifty dollars.
I paid my house rent, doctor's bill arid other debts, and
about the middle of November, set oft' for Vernon in the
county of Orieida, in the state of New- York, and after
journeying with my family thirty-one days, and laying by
about thirty-three days, arrived at Vernon on the 21st
day of January, 1824, My body and mind had both be
come so impaired, that I had abandoned the, idea of ever
taking the pastoral charge of a church again. I bought
a small lot of land, consisting of three acres, on which
there was a small house, in the adjoining town of Augus
ta, to which I removed my family on the day I entered
the sixtieth year of my life; on the day I closed my six
tieth year, 1 commenced writing this little volume, but
my wife had been so much out of health, and being un
der many embarrassments, that at the expiration of the
year, I had not finished one sheet. On the sixth day of
January, 1826, my first daughter was born, whose name
we call Mary Jane.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. *(J

As I am far removed from my connexions, as they
may know nothing of my children, except what they learn
from this narrative, and as I have named all but the
youngest daughter, I am willing to indulge the usual
weaknesses of aged parents, by observing that she was
born August 24th, 18527. To her we gave the name of
Eliza Ann.

On the first of February, 1826, 1 set out on a journey^
to the state of Ohio, a distance of seven hundred miles.
On my way I visited Columbus, Ripley, Cincinnati and
Batavia, and had a pleasant interview with many of my
friends. In this journey, I fractured my left shoulder by
a fall from my horse. A few months after my return,
I had the misfortune to fracture my right shoulder, by
a fall from a wagon. One principal inducement in ta
king the journey to Ohio, was to sell the village lots in
Batavia, of which I have before spoken. That place
has now become the seat of justice for the county. In
this, however, I could not succeed to my satisfaction,
and as I could not sell them without a great sacrifice, I
made provision for the payment of subsequent taxes,
and concluded to let them remain unsold. I was told
that the taxes were all paid up to the year 1826. I left
money with Mr. Joseph Grant to pay the tax that should
next become due, and engaged a person against whom
I had a demand, to remit money to Mr. G. to pay the
subsequent taxes. We considered Mr. G. as our agent,
although he was not formally authorized to act. Shortly
after my return from Ohio, I wrote to Mr. Grant, that if
he could sell the lots to advantage, we would forward to
him a power for that purpose, and wished him to write.
Mr. G. mislaid the letter, and had forgotten the place
where we lived. But after about one year, he found the
letter and answered it. The following is an extract
from his letter, which was dated

Batavia, O. July 24, 1827.

'* The business of most interest to you, I have to com
municate, is in regard to your lots. You will recollect
that when you were here last, you left me a dollar for
the purpose of paying the taxes which I did for the year
1826. But I was not aware that the taxes for 1825 had

260 MEMOIRS OF

not been paid. In consequence of that delinquency,
your lots have been sold, and purchased by Thomas
Morris, Esq. and his son for the taxes due that year."
Having received this information, I wrote to the post
master at Batavia, presuming he was an acquaintance
of mine, and wished him to inform rne who was the
county auditor, &/c. I waited long and received no an-
( swer. I then wrote to a friend in the vicinity of Batavia,
waited and still received no answer.

I then wrote to Judge Moore before named, a gentle
man of the strictest veracity, and requested him to at
tend to our business. Mr. C. A. Campbell, the post
master at Ripley being an acquaintance, I wrote him at
the same time, requesting fhmi to inform me whether
Moore's letter had reached that office.

Mr. Campbell had the politeness to pay a punctual
attention to my request, and wrote me under the date of

June 16th, 1826.

" Dear Sir — By this day's mail I received your let
ter of the 29th ult. In reply to the information request
ed, I have to say, our worthy and excellent friend, Jo
seph Moore, has paid the last great debt of nature."

I may with propriety say there was no man in the
state of Ohio, to whom I was tinder greater obligations
for various acts of kindness than deacon J. Moore.
When 1 recollect the vast number of my friends who
have "gone the w ay of all the earth," I may properly
say to myself, " be thou also ready."

In view of what I have already related, together with
many other circumstances attendant on my emigration
from the east, there seems to be a kind of fatality attend
ing my enterprises in the west.

I have too much confidence, however in Mr. Morris
and his son, to indulge the thought that they will take
any undue advantage of my misfortunes.

I must now bring my little narrative to a close. It
has already been drawn out to a greater length than 1
had anticipated at its commencement. My life, though
much diversified, has been marked by great and unde
served mercy from God; and in view of this fact, I can
not express my feelings more properly than in the fol
lowing lines, composed by an unknown author.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. ~« L

BIRTH DAY.

Great God! thy goodness let me sing,

On this my natal day,
From thee what joys, what pleasures spring,

My grateful soul survey.

When in the days of other years,

The storms of wo assail'd
My wand'ring bark— then o'er my fears

Thy promises prevail'd.

The stranger's fate, in foreign lands,

In early youth was mine:
Around me then, to raise up friends,

The heav'nly work was thine.

When wreck'd on ocean's raging wave,

No ray of hope there came,
Thy matchless arm was stretch'dto save,

And shield my sinking Irame!

The stormy cape was bleak and bare, *

No verdure smiled around
The desert shore— yet even there

Thy watchful hand I found!

Snatch'd from the overwhelming flood,

To light, to life restor'd;
How leap'd my heart to thee, my God,

Thy providence ador'd!

And since through pain or peril's hour^

Thy hand has led my way,
Forsake me not, all-gracious Power,

On this my natal clay!

O! spare me yet to praise thy name

With gratitude andjoy;
My God thy goodness to proclaim,

My heart, my tongue employ.

Still let my life, serenely gay,

Through future changes prove,
Be every thorn that checks my way,

Made harmless by thy love.

And when the shades of death impend,

The gloomy grave in view;
Be thou my solace — thou my friend —

My God forever true! H. H. Jr.

END OF THE FIRST EDITION.

262 MEMOIRS OF

MEMOIRS CONTINUED.

CHAPTER XII.

He commences selling his books in the count)/ of Oneida
— Utica — Albany — Troy — New- York — District of
Columbia — Fredcricksburg in Va. — Richmond — Pe
tersburg — Norfolk — Portsmouth Williamsburg

Baltimore — Philadelphia — Returns home — Journeys
East, through Vermont and New-Hampshire, to
Maine — Returns home — Visits Ohio and returns home
• — 77/5 daughters death — Visits New-York — Provi
dence — PatotucJcet — Boston — Returns to Providence.

HAVING nearly completed my manuscript for my first
edition, I conceived it expedient that I should have the
judgment of some literary gentlemen upon it, for I had
not the vanity to suppose that I was a proper judge of
its merits.

I requested Alexander M. Beebe, Esq. editor of the
New- York Baptist Register, to examine it. Having
read a number of sheets, he encouraged its publication.
I also put it into the hands of the Rev. A. Mc'Kay, of
New- York, for examination. He gave it his approba
tion and observed that it was just what the young Amer
icans ought to read. He said that we had the history of
the Revolution on the great scale, but that we had few
of the details. — I shewed it to the Rev. Mr. Parkerson:
he disapproved of its publication, from the impression
that I should lose money by it; but after he had read a
part of the manuscript, he gave his cordial approbation.
As the Rev. Spencer H. Cone was considered a gen
tleman of refined taste, and had once been the editor of
a newspaper, I wished to obtain his opinion also. He
had the kindness with Mr. Parkerson, to give me his
signature. I then came to the conclusion to publish it
if I could, notwithstanding I was entirely destitute of
funds.

I had some encouragement from Enos Nichols, Esq.
of Kirkland, and from Gen. J. J. Knox of Augusta,

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 263

that they would assist me in getting it through the press.
In that case they would incur some risk, as I was al
ready near !200 dollars in debt. Col. Win. Williams
of Utica offered to print it lor me, provided Gen. Knox
would become responsible for halt' the sum, in easel
might fail, provided I would give my personal attention
to the sale of the books. To this Gen. Knox agreed, and
I commenced selling my books in Sept. 1828, and hav
ing sold near two or three hundred in Augusta and the
adjacent country, I went to Utica, where I was liber
ally patronised, and had some flattering compliments
paid me by gentlemen of distinction. In Nov. I set out
lor Albany and had good success in disposing of books
in Sangersfield and Cherry-Valley. I journeyed with
my horse and small wagon; but I found it necessary to
take my horse and wagon home again, and travel by
stage. On my arrival home, I found my wife confined
to her bed with the rheumatism. I remained with my
family just a week. My wife did not ait up an hour in
the time. It was extremely unpleasant to leave my
family at this season of the year, with a view not to re
turn for six or eight months. The undertaking was an
adventurous one at first, and especially in view of my
limited education and advanced age. But I could con
ceive of no better prospects to procure a subsistence for
myself and family, and in this business every thing de
pended on my health and ability to travel. There were
debts of more than a thousand dollars standing against
me, and all that I possessed, aside from my books, would
not raise half the money. Trying, however, as our
circumstances were, we must be separated; four of rnv
children being yet tinder twelve years of age and two of
them under four. .Every person of candor and sensibil
ity will acknowledge that it is no small privation for an
old man to turn his back on his family and fire-side, at
this season of the year. It was about the middle of De
cember: I endeavored tocomrnend my afflicted wife and
dear children, together with my own soul, to God, and
took rny departure for Utica, where I took the stage for
Albany. Trying as my situation was, it was vastly pre
ferable, to being exposed to cannon balls and bombs,

2t)4 MEMOIRS OF

day arid night, for weeks together, or being exposed in
gales of wind at sea, when almost every wave would
seem to threaten destruction — or despairing of deliver
ance on a wreck, or starvation in a wilderness, or suffer
ing hunger in a loathsome prison-ship. From all those
scenes of sorrow, God has delivered me; surely there
can be no mortal in existence who is under greater ob
ligations to be humble and to render thanksgiving and
praise to God than myself. After all, I have yet the
debt to pay, for it is appointed to man once to die.

While in Albany there were several days so extreme
ly cold that I thought it imprudent to go out. Several
gentlemen of distinction bought books of me, and hav
ing read them, were disposed to say that they were very
interesting. I had the satisfaction to sell one to Mr. J.
Kidney, who with the exception of David Warren, Esq.
of Verona, was the only person I had found who had
suffered on board the Jersey. He was riot poor enough
to get a pension. — By his own industry he had acquired
a handsome estate. He was by occupation a black
smith, but not of that description who have an unquench
able spark in the throat. Mr. Kidney drinks neither
wine or strong drink, nor even strong beer or cider. I
very much regret that I had not while in the company
of those gentleman, furnished myself with some more
authentic details relative to their sufferings while on
board the Jersey.

1 had no expectation at that time however, of publish
ing a second edition.

I sold about a hundred and fjfty books in Albany, and
twenty in Troy. I feel myself under especial obliga
tions to the Baptist preachers and brethren in Albany
and Troy, who purchased my books. My patronage,
however, was by no means confined to the Baptist, or
any other denomination. Elder Welch gave notice to
his congregation, that a relict of the Revolution would
preach to them in the afternoon, which circumstance
facilitated the sale of my books.

About the middle of Jan. 1829, I took the stage for
New-York, with a view of spending several weeks there.
I was cordially received and hospitably entertained by

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 265

Mr. D. Lewis and lady, members of the Baptist church,
whose frank and generous friendship had more than once
consoled me in my previous trials. They even insisted
on my making their house my home, while I abode in
the city. This circumstance was Consoling to an old
man who was far from his family.

It excites astonishment when my memory brings
again lo view the numerous friends, which God in his
gracious providence, has raised up for me among stran
gers. Surely goodness and mercy have followed me
all my days. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not
all his benefits.

At the close of a conference meeting of the Oliver-street
church, the Rev. Mr. C. recommended my books to the at
tention of his congregation, who very liberally patroniz
ed me. The Rev. Mr. Parkerson and the Rev. Mr.
Dunbar also assisted me with their influence. After I
had been selling my books several days in the city, I
was frequently met by gentlemen who had bought and
read them, who readily recognizing me, were disposed
to present me some polite and familiar compliments; and
as 1 proceeded, instances of this kind multiplied; but
my time being invaluable, I could not indulge either
them or myself with but very short interviews, as my
success depended on my own personal patience and
perseverance. I sold in the city ten, fifteen, and some
times more than twenty in a day. This was doing
great business for me, and rapidly facilitated the dis
charge of the heavy debt I had contracted for printing;
and this object must be accomplished before I could re
alize any real benefit to my family. At the close of the
day I was generally so fatigued by walking and talk
ing, that I was quite dispirited, and fearful that I should
never accomplish my object. My own judgment as
well as the sacred scriptures have long since taught me
that despondency is neither a virtue nor a grace. Who
will presume to reverse the declaration, that it is through
much tribulation we are to enter into the kingdom? And
that " man who is born of a woman is of few days and
full of trouble" Therefore the only encouragement
for a, feeble mortal is, that there is a throne of grace

266 MEMOIRS OF

to which he may fly for refuge to lay hold of the hope
set before him. O the condescension of the eternal
God, to permit feeble, polluted mortals, whose breath is
in their nostrils, to approach his sacred presence, and
talk with him as a man talketh with his friend. These
considerations have tranquilized my mind, and encour
aged me to " endure as seeing him who is invisible."

While disposing of my books in the city, Capt. Benj.
Bailey was frequently spoken of by the citizens as having
been a prisoner on board the Jersey. I called on him,
and was treated with marked attention, both by himself
and lady. He bought two of my books and had the
politeness to introduce me to the Hon. R. Hiker, the
Recorder, to Gen. Morton, Dr. Graves and others, near
the City Hall, who took books of me. I called at the
Custom-house, under the impression that I should cer
tainly sell a few there. I observed to the gentlemen,
that I had called to offer them a little book, in which 1
had told the story of my own conflicts in the revolution,
and particularly on board the Jersey prison ship.

An old gentleman raised his voice and replied, " Books,
this is no place to sell books; this is a public office."
I replied that I was aware of that, and presumed that
he was in public employ, and that he got his pay for his
services; that I had been in public service myself, and
had never got my pay for my services, and that I should
like to sell him a book. " We want none of your books,"
said he. He seemed so unpleasant, that I had no wish
to trouble him with my presence, and retired with inten
tion to try in the next room, which was an insurance
office, and addressed myself to an old gentleman, as
before. He shoved up his spectacles and replied with
emphasis, " Were you on board the Jersey prison ship?"
I replied that I was. " Oh! then I will buy one of your
books," said he, " I know what you had to suffer there.
I was the clerk of the commissary, who was sent into
the city at that time, to pay some attention to the suffer
ings of the prisoners; I will buy a book of you." The
old gentleman addressed himself to another gentleman
present, saying, '* Won't you buy a book of him? the old
gentleman has had a hard time of it, no doubt." The

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 267

gentleman consented. "Now," said he, (t I will buy
one for my grandson," a lad in the office, probably fif
teen years of age. "Here" said he, "read this, my boy,
that you may see what your rights cost." "Really, Sir,"
said I, " I meet with a very different reception from
what I did in the Custom-house," and recited to him the
circumstance. " Ah, Mr. Sherburne," said he, " you
will find many of the Americans that don't know, nor
don't want to know, what their rights cost. There
is a great difference between a man's getting an estate,
and a man's heiring an estate."

This old patriot was Mr. John Pintard. I do not
know, nor do I wish to know, the name of the man in
the custom-house; I however do not believe that it was
the custom-house officer.

On the 18th of February, 1829, 1 went on board the
steam-boat, and from thence took the stage to Philadel
phia, and so on to Baltimore, and called on my good
brother Joseph France and his lady, whose hospitality I
had enjoyed six years before, when returning in poor
health from Ohio. While in Baltimore, there came a
violent snow storm, which detained me there two days.
I then took the stage for Washington, and was cour
teously entertained by Rev. O. B. Brown and lady. My
box of books, which I had ordered for Washington, were
frozen up in Albany. I had therefore to send to Balti
more for the books I had designed for that place. I
spent about three weeks in Washington and Georgetown,
and preached several times for Mr. Brown's people,
visited the college, sold books to several of the students,
had an interesting interview with Drs. Chapin aad Sem-
ple. I also called on President Adams, who gave me
two dollars for a book.

I had not designed to have gone any further south, but
Dr. Semple and elder Brown advised me to go into
Virginia. I wished the Doctor to give me a letter to
some brother in Portsmouth or Norfolk and he gave me
the following letter to Dr. Joseph Schoolfield, of Ports
mouth.

" Col Hill, March 23, 1829.
BROTHER SCHOOLFIELD,
DEAR SIR — The bearer, elder Andrew Sherburne,

268 MEMOIRS OF

has been among us for some time, has acquired the re
gard of all his acquaintance as a good man. He is
an old revolutionary sufferer, and at that trying crisis,
passed through many perilous and trying scenes, which
he has thought worthy of remembrance — has according
ly written his own memoirs; his object in travelling is
to sell his books. I have bought and read one of them,
and really can recommend it ,as amusing and quite in
teresting. He wishes me to introduce him to your ac
quaintance, and that of the other brethren of jVorfolk
and Portsmouth. Any attention you may show our old
friend and brother, will I think be acceptable to God
and acknowledged by yours, <fcc.

R.B. SEMPLE.

P. S. As I have not time to write to any others — will
you read this and hand it back to him for the inspection
of as many as he may wish to shew it to. K. B. S."

I visited Alexandria, with a letter frcm the
Rev. O. B. Brown to Kev. Samuel Cornelius. He
had just received a pressing letter from the Baptist
church at Chopawamsic, to preach for them the follow
ing Sabbath; but he was otherwise engaged, and could
not; he requested me to serve them. I consented and
descended the Potomac about twenty miles, in the
steam-boat, and found a brother Rubleman waiting
for me with a gig; he took me to his own house at
Dumfries; in the evening I preached in the Court-House;
next day he took me to Chopawamsic, to their church
meeting, and I was hospitably entertained at the house
where the Rev. John Leland used to preach forty years
ago. On ford's day, I preached and broke bread to the
church; returned to Dumfries, preached in the Court,
House again and returned to Washington to wind up
my concerns there, took an affectionate farewell of broth
er Davis and his lady, at the navy yard; and of brother
Cooper arid his lady and also of a brother Gater and
lady. I had been courteously entertained in these fam
ilies, as well as at brother Brown's. Mrs. Gater having
read my book, had the kindness to send each of my lit
tle girls a silver thimble.
J returned to Alexandria, Vir. with an intentio n to

ANDREW SHERBURNE, 269

take lodgings at a boarding house, but brother and sis
ter Cornelius would not agree to it. They insisted that
I should make myself at home at their house.

As soon as my books came on, brother Cornelius went
round with me, and called on whom he pleased, and I
made rapid progress in selling my books; and being
called away, he called upon a brother I. P. Colman to
wait on me. Sister Cornelius in addition to other favors
sent a dollar to each of my little girls. On leaving Al
exandria, brother Cornelius furnished me with the fol
lowing letter.

« Alexandria, D. C. March 26, 1829.
MR. ROBERT B. FIFE, FREDERICKSBURG.

DEAR BROTHER — This will be handed you by our
aged and venerable brother, Rev. Andrew Sherburne.
Besides the love which I feel for him as an aged Christ
ian and preacher of righteousness, he prefers anoth
er and an irresistible claim to my confidence and re
gard. He lived and acted and suffered in " the times
that tried men's souls."

The incidents of his life, during the war of the Rev
olution and since, have appeared to his friends, and to
himself, worthy of being perpetuated in the memory of
Americans, and he has therefore written a memoir of
himself, which I have read with satisfaction.

The leading object of his visit to the South is to dis
pose of his books; upon the profits of which he relies
for supporting his family. I am persuaded you will take
pleasure in rendering any service in your power, and in
doing so you will add another reason to the many which
I have already to subscribe myself,

Your obliged brother,

S. CORNELIUS.

P. S. As I shall not be able to write to the numerous
friends, to which it would give me pleasure to introduce
our friend, be kind enough to return him this as a gen
eral introduction. S. CORNELIUS."

Brother Cornelius observed to me, that the Virginian
brethren would not approve of my putting up at a public
house, that they expected travelling brethren to call o»
them. 23*

270 MEMOIRS OF

On the 28th of March, I left Alexandria in the steam
boat, and descended the Potomac, had the satisfaction
of Dr. J. S. Jackson's company, who was Mrs, Brown's
son by her first husband; I had formed a pleasant ac
quaintance with him at elder Brown's, at Washington. I
had the satisfaction to pass in view of the celebrated
Mount Vernon, arid landed within nine miles of Freder-
icksburg, and went on to Fredericksburg in the stage
in the night, the travelling exceeding bad. Dr. Semple
supplied the Baptist church a part of the time. I was at
home at Mr. Alexander Walker's, who was a member of
the Baptist church. I was an entire stranger; yet the
before mentioned letters were a sufficint recommendation.
I must, however, conform to the customs of the country.
The Baptists were disappointed of their preacher that
day, and it was proposed that I should preach for them.
Brother Walker, his lady, and their children were as
much devoted to me as I could wish. I had occasion to
go to the stage-office, where i had left my baggage; Mr.
YValker proposed that I should take a boy as a waiter. I
observed to him that there was no occasion; that I could
bring in a handkerchief all that I should need. "O! take
a boy, take a boy," said he; I made no more objections,
and being among Virginians, would do as Virginians do.
I went to the stage-office, followed by a colored lad about
sixteen, and having a boy, I thought he might as well
take a small trunk as a bundle; and on my return met
Mr. Walker in his front door, and a young colored man
at his elbow. The lad was directed to take my trunk
into a chamber; he was followed by Mr. Walker and my
self, and we were followed by the other black man. Having
entered the chamber, (all in style,) said Mr. Walker,
''here brother Sherburne is where we put our ministers,
when they come to see us, and here is a boy (viz. a
young man) to wait on you; if you want any thing, just
ring the bell and he will come to you." A prince could
not need more superb accommodations than I then had.
In taking a retrospective view of the stations, quarters, and
different habitations I had occupied in the space of half
a century, I could not recollect that I had ever been ac-
^cmmodated in such princely style before. There were

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 271

indeed, unnumbered instances in New-England where I
had been accommodated with a chamber of the highest
style, with every necessary accommodation. But never
before had I Toney, Curfy, or Pompey to make a fire
for me before I was up — clean my boots — provide hot
water for shaving, and even shaving (if requested,) and
brush and adjust my coat, &c. &.c.

Having at this place all the conveniences for writing,
it was a favorable opportunity to communicate to my wile
the progress I had made, and the princely state to which
I had arrived. A thought from Foster's Essay gave me
a jog. I recollected that in his Esssay upon "A man's wri
ting memoirs of himself," he gives an idea something like
the following. "There are hut few men who have lived
fifty or sixty years, who, if they were to narrate the more
striking events of divine providence as it respects them
selves, but it would be interesting." He did not mean,
however, that he should tell us what color every coat had
been that he had worn in the time. I do not wish either
to disgust, or even tire my readers by being too minute.
I will therfore promise, that if they will bear with me in
this instance, I will in future endeavor not to offend.

I preached three times for the Baptists on the Sabbath.
In the evening I was recognized while speaking by a
Mr. Perkins, formerly of Kennebunk port. Early on
Monday my servant informed me that there was a gentle
man in the drawing-room who wished to see me. I had no
expectation that L should find any one in this remote re
gion who knew any thing of me. I entered the drawing-
room; Mr. Walker very politely introduced Mr. P. to
me, who seemed really elated to see me; made some a-
pology for calling so early; observed that he had not seen
me for fifteen years; presumed that I had no recollection
of him, as he was about fifteen when he left Kennebunk
port. It was pleasant to ascertain that this young gen
tleman (whose parents I well knew,) was of good char
acter, and in good business.

By the assistance of Mr. Walker, and Mr. P. I sold
about sixty of my books in three days, and then went on
to Richmond, the seat of government, on the James rir-
er. I called on Mr. Richard C. Wortham, of the Bap-

272 MEMOIRS OF

list church, a very affectionate brother, who has an ami
able lady; his aged and pious mother lived with him; his
eldest son Albert, was at the university. My accommo
dations here were the same as at Fredericksburg. I was
introduced to Rev. John Kerr, of the first Baptist church,
Rev. James Taylor of the 2d church, and Rev. Mr.
Keeling, editor of the Recorder. Deacon Archibald
Thomas insisted that I should make his house my home
a part of the time, which I did, and found his lady a very
interesting Christian. As I spent four weeks in the city,
I preached several times for Messrs. Carr and Taylor,
and preached several lectures in private houses. I had
particular attention paid me by Messrs. William and
James Crane.

In all my travels in Virginia, I found none who to me
appeared more devotional than sister Carr, the wife of
Rev. J. Carr; her very impressive request that 1 should
pray for her and hers, has very often come fresh to my
mind, and although absent from each other in body, I
trust that we have been sometimes present, in the spirit,
before the throne of God. * On leaving Richmond for
Petersburg, brother Kerr gave me the following letter.

"TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.

" We have had the pleasure of the Rev. Andrew Sher-
burne's company in this city some weeks. He has
preached and prayed with us. He came to us highly rec
ommended; but our esteem for him has been greatly
heightened by a personal knowledge of his well regulated
piety as a Christian, his modesty as a man, and his practic
al sense as a minister of Jesus Christ. His life has been
marked with toil and sufferings for his country, and his
God. He carries with him a brief and unvarnished his
tory of his own life, written by himself. I have read it
with much interest and pleasure, and believe it well cal
culated to do good. The friend of liberty, of piety, and
of man, who has a dollar to spare will do well by giving
it for such a book, to such a man.

JOHN KERR,

Pastor of the \stBaptist church in the city of
Richmond, Va.

2dMay, 1829."

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 273

On 2nd of May, 1829, I left Richmond in the stage
for Petersburg, (about twenty miles south of Richmond,)
once the residence of Pocahontas. In the stage I had
some pleasant acquaintance with Hon. Samuel \Viniree,
xvho had been Mayor of the borough. He bought a
book of me before he left the stage, and the next morn
ing he sent and bought another.

I was hospitably entertained by brother Martin Ea
ton, and brother Charles Loomis, who was formerly of
the Baptist church in Hartford, Ct. 1 spent a week in
this place, and preached several lectures. My book was
generously patronized^ On the 10th, I preached for the
Baptist church and broke bread for them; and on Mon
day, having had opportunity to see Pocahontas' wash
basin, an excavation in a large loose stone, three or four
feet in diameter, I returned to Richmond; spent a day
or two with my good friends, took passage in a steam
boat for Norfolk, and put up in Virginia style with Rev.
Jeremiah Hendren, with whom Rev. R. Uowell, the
pastor of the Baptist church, boarded, I made my home
chiefly with a brother Jonathan Ridley.

On the loth, I crossed the ferry to Portsmouth, and
called on Dr. Schoolh'eld, to whom Dr. Semple directed
his letter. I was kindly entertained here and at every
other place at which I stopped. I ascended the Drum-
mond ten miles, to see brother D. M. Curtis and lady,
with whom I had had a pleasant acquaintance in Chilli-
cothe, in Ohio. They were both astonished and glad to
see me. I preached several times, and returned to
Portsmouth and preached for Rev. IX Woodson; cross
ed the river to Norfolk, and in the evening preached for
the Rev. R. Howell. Elder Carr and others advised
me to attend the Portsmouth association. Brother How-
ell gave me a letter to Rev. John Faulchon, who is
county clerk of Surry. I ascended the James river
again, about fifty miles, and landed on the left bank op
posite Jamestown, which was the first settlement in Vir
ginia. Brother F. lived about a mile from the river. He
paid every attention to me that I could wish, and sent
his servants after my baggage.

On Wednesday, 20th May, I spent the day very agree-*

274 MEMOIRS OF

ably with brother Faulchon. In the afternoon, brother
Philip Barzizar, a licensed preacher, with his lady, came
over the James river from Williamsburg, to accompany
brother F. to the association. Brother Barzizer was an
Italian Count, had been a Roman Catholic, but was now
a Baptist preacher. Elder Jeter also joined our com
pany. On the 21st, elder Faulchon gratuitously fur
nished me with a horse and gig, and we all set out for
the association. It was about thirty miles. We had
an agreeable interview, and returned again to brother
Faulchon's on the 25th.

On the morning of the 26th, being about to leave this
affectionate family, where I had received so many proofs
of kindness, we engaged in prayer, and had a solemn
and delightful season. He gave me two dollars for a
book, sent me to the river with brother Barzizar and
lady in his hack, where a boat and servants were ready
to take us over to Jamestown. We crossed the James
river in about the same place where Pocahontas did to
relieve Capt. Smith. There was but one house left
where what was called the city of Jamestown stood. It
was once the capitol of Virginia. I saw a part of the
steeple of the first church, or meeting-house, ever built
in America. I must confess such things produce very
solemn sensations on my mind. A few rods above the
old site of Jamestown, is the landing place w?here the
steam-boat takes and lands passengers, coming from or
going to Williamsburg, which lies on another river about
eight miles east from Jamestown, and was the seat of
government at the commencement of the revolution.
There I saw the old State-house where Patrick Henry
delivered his celebrated speech; and there I also saw
the magazine which belonged to his Britannic Majesty,
which the Virginians broke open to get powder to fight
his soldiers. This is but a few miles from the place
where Cornwallis surrendered his army. It would have
been some satisfaction to have viewed the ground, but
my circumstances would not admit. Williamsburg, like
many other ancient places, is on the decline. The col
leges and the insane hospital, however, render it some
what celebrated. Brother Barzizar very politely ao

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 275

companied me to sell my books and took me in his gig
to James river; and after an affectionate farewell, I
again went on board the steam-boat for Norfolk. Messrs.
Shield, editors of the Norfolk Beacon, gave a very re
spectful notice of my book. I was successful in Nor
folk and Portsmouth in my sales. I had an interesting
interview with Commodore Barron, in the Navy Yard.
He bought half a dozen, and encouraged the sale of
them among his officers. Visited old Point Comfort and
Hampton, and returned again to Portsmouth, and put up
with Dr. Schoolfield. On the Lord's day, 31st, preach
ed for the Baptist church in Portsmouth. I was under
especial obligations to Dr. Williamson, of the navy.

On the l()th of June I took the steam-boat for Balti
more, where I spent but a few days and hastened on to
Philadelphia. 1 had made so long a stride toward home
that I was very unwilling to be detained. I was very
anxious indeed to get home. Six years had made a
great change in Philadelphia. Dr. Rogers, Dr. Staugh-
ton, and Dr. Holcombe were no more. I was courteously
entertained by my old friend David Johns. I had some
acquaintance with Rev. Noah Davis, since deceased.
He introduced me to Rev. Mr. Brantley, who treated
me with particular attention, for whom 1 preached one
Sabbath, he being called out of the city. Mr. Chandler,
the editor of the United States Gazette, bought a book
of me and gave a complimentary notice of it in his paper.
When I had passed through this section of the country
in 1823, I formed a pleasant acquaintance with the Bap
tist church in the Great valley, about fifteen miles from
Philadelphia. I obtained a passage out to the Great
valley, and called on deacon Jonathan Philips, and had
a rery friendly interview with him and his lady. Lord's
day, ;21st, he took me in his carriage to the meeting
house, where I preached. In the afternoon I preached
in a grove, to a large audience, near the King of Prus
sia's tavern. On Monday, the deacon and his lady ac
companied me to E. Siter's, Esq., and also to Daniel
Abraham's, Esq. whose wife was the deacon's daughter.
Here I parted with the deacon, who was now upwards
of seventy, and never expected to meet with him again

276 MEMOIRS OF

in time. In the morning, Esquire Abraham accompa
nied me to Mr. Lemuel George's, another old acquain
tance, where we were indulged with a very pleasant in
terview, and returned again to brother Siter's, from
whence I took the stage for Philadelphia, and called on
Mr. John Justin. This worthy brother and his amiable
lady, as well as those precious friends above mentioned
at the Great valley, had years before taken me in when
a stranger. Mr. Justin lived in Vincennes when I passed
along here six years ago; and in my first edition he is
erroneously called Fustin. He and his excellent wife
treated me as affectionate children. I can never forget
their kindness ; I made their house my home. But
notwithstanding all the kindness they could bestow on
me, I was sinking under my burden, and saw it indis
pensably necessary that I should shape my course home
wards. On the 8th of July I set out for New-York,
arrived at 6 o-clbck, and was heartily welcomed by my
very worthy brother and sister Lewis. They certainly
took a very deep interest in rny welfare.

I was so very anxious to get home, that nothing could
divert my attention. As soon as it was practicable I got
my baggage on board the steam-boat, went on to Albany,
and without calling on a single friend took a canal-boat
for Utica; and on the J5lh of July, 1829, by the abound
ing mercy of God, arrived home and found my family
all well. Through the kindness of heaven I had suc
ceeded in paying oif my printer's bill, and my other
debts, and was able to do something to my house, which
was yet unfinished. Of course, I could find employ
ment at home for a few months. My precious little
daughters lay very near my heart. I could scarcely in
dulge a thought of living to see them arrive to maturity,
and I felt as though it was indispensably necessary that
what I could do for them should be done quickly.

About the middle of November, I took with me my
youngest son, and set off for the state of Maine. John,
my oldest son, having gone on a year before to visit his
friends, and to superintend the sale of a box of books I had
sent on to Portland, the remainder of my books being at
Albany, I sent a box of three hundred to Providence, K. I.

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 277

and taking about one hundred with me, went on our jour
ney. In Lansingburgh I was generously patronized. We
then passed on without delay through Vermont, and cross
ed the Connecticut river at Charleston, N. H. I made
it convenient to visit Mr. Andrew Sherburne, my cousin,
who lived in Hopkinton. There was but a few months
difference in our ages; we had not seen each other for
many years. His brother John lived within three miles,
in the town of Concord. John's wife was also my own
cousin, the same who with Miss Hannah Nutter, so nar
rowly escaped being drowned with me in our trip to
Dover. As might be expected, we met with a very
pleasant reception in those families, and while our par
ents and so many of those who had been our contempo
raries, were sleeping in the dust, we had the opportunity
to contrast our juvenile years with the days of decrepi
tude and advanced age. It was very convenient for me
to make my home with my cousin John, while I was
selling my books to the patriots of Concord, where I
spent one Sabbath, and preached once for my much es
teemed brother, the Rev. Mr. Williams, formerly of
Beverly, Ms.

Almost all my first wife's connexions lived in this re
gion. Gen. James Blake, of Chichester, married one of
her nieces. Mr. David Sherburne, of Epsom, was her
nephew. My uncle C.'s children Jived also in this
section of country. To all these I was as one from the
dead; we had never expected to meet each other again
in time. My interview with this large circle of relations
and friends was indeed interesting.

When I pass through places that were familiar to me
* in my boyhood, which I have not visited for many years,
it occasions very serious and solemn sensations, that I
cannot describe. I am far from supposing that such
sensations are peculiar to myself. In Epsom, no one
object excited more peculiar emotions, than an ancient
orchard that my hands had helped to plant more than
sixty years ago. The trees looked ancient, and as plain
as they could speak, they told me that like myself they
were decaying. Is there not an appointed time to man
upon the earth? I visited my brother, D. M. Ingalls,

27B MEMOIRS OF

at Baldwin, in Maine, who married my youngest sister.
They had recently buried a most desirable son, about
eight years of age. His disposition was so very amia
ble, that he was the idol of the whole family. On our
way eastward 1 visited my sister Abigail's children, in
North Yarmouth, whose husband was Mr. Joel Haven;
and on the Kennebunk river visited my uncle Green's
descendants; and in Belmont I was permitted once more
to behold the face of my honored uncle James Wey-
mouth, who suffered with me on board the awful Jersey.
I had not seen him for more than twenty years. I came
upon him unexpectedly; but I shall not, for 1 cannot
describe the scene, only to say we embraced like chil
dren. Could it be possible but that it would revive again
those distressing scenes of the " Old Jersey" and her
hospital ships. The good old gentleman was in afflic
tion, his wile deranged, in consequence of the death of
their only daughter some years since. She was a very
interesting child. I also visited my brother George and
his wife, who live in Prospect, on the Penobscot river,
whom I had not seen for more than twenty years. Death
had also lopped of their pleasant branches. But to all
this long list of endeared relatives, I must be only as a
way-faring man, who had turned aside but for a night,
My brother George accompanied me to Bangor, while
my two sons enjoyed themselves with their worthy aunt
and cousins. It was now January, and we were in haste
to return. Being in a wagon, we were fearful of being
retarded by the snow. In Portland I had a pleasant
time with my many old friends. I preached here seve
ral times, once at the Mariner's church, and had many
phasant interviews with my old brethren. Brother
Thomas Hammond took an especial interest in facilitat
ing the sale of my books. G. W. Pierce, Esq. the son
of my old friend Hon. Josiah Pierce, of Baldwin, very
much befriended me.

I could make my friends at Kennebunk-Port and vi
cinity, but a partial visit; they had heard of my design
to visit them, and expected that I should spend several
weeks, at least among them; but in many families I
could not afford to spend even a half an hour, where they

ANDREW SHERBURNE.

had hoped that I should spend at least a night I preach
ed once at my old stand, once at the Port, and once at
Kennebunk. They evinced their friendliness by libe
rally patronizing my book. I forbear to name any of
them, because I cannot name them all. I bear them on
my heart, and hope to meet them in heaven.

In Portsmouth, I had opportunity to visit my brother
Randal Fernald, and my cousin Capt. Joseph Sherburne,
on the ancient farm on the plain, to whom, with his lady
and children, I am under especial obligation. By the
mercy of God I arrived home with my two sons in good
htealth, on the 10th of April 1830, and had the satisfac
tion to find my family well. In my first edition I men
tioned the sale of some village lots of land in Batavia,
in Ohio. I had received information that nothing but
my personal presence could recover them. I set out on
the 20th of May on a journey of more than six hundred
miles, succeeded in getting the lots transferred to my
son again, had the satisfaction of seeing many old friends,
of selling about sixty books, which were all that I had
with me, and returned to my family on the 20th July,
and by the mercy of God found them all well. It was
my intention to go to Providence on the first of Septem
ber. But my gracious God saw fit to detain me, that I
might pass an afflictive scene with my family. I had
been astonished at the forbearance of heaven toward us
in sparing our lives, while death had in years past
been visiting almost every family around us. I had prob
ably enjoyed myself as highly for the space of two months,
with my precious little girls, as any other old man ever
did with his young children. Eliza Ann was by the
neighbors called the most interesting of the family. On
the 20th of September she was taken ill; by the 25th her
physician pronounced her very ill; we began to despair
of her recovery. The trial was great, we had never
been called to part with a child. 1 was brought to view
the hand of God in this. When on about the eighth
day, the doctor gave her up, the mother was almost in
consolable.

" Judge ye who know a mothers cares,
For the dear tender babe she bears."

280 MEMOIRS OF

I endeavored to put myself on trial. I seemed con
vinced she must go. I i'elt almost forbidden to pray lor
her life, and endeavored to persuade myseif that 1 was
reconciled to her death, and I indulged in the following
reflections. If she lives, she will sin against a holy God.
If she lives, she will have to endure the trials and sor
rows which mortals are incident to. She will not be left
a helpless orphan. The Lord will not suffer the dear
babe to become contaminated with vice. He has occa
sion for her — of such is the kingdom of heaven. All
must die at some time, for the debt must be paid. Not
my will, but thine, O Lord, be done. But all this dots
not sever the ties of affection. She breathed her last on
the first day of October, and the eleventh day of her
sickness, which was the canker-rash.

" Go view the garden where the fragrant rose,
In all the youthful pride of beauty glows;
Go pluck the tender flower, and pensive, say,
So cruel death may pluck me down to-day.
'Tis often seen and known to be a truth,
That death first preys upon the fairest youth \
The flowers that blossom fiist, first fade away,
So fruit that first gets ripe, will first decay."

She was permitted to stay with me until I had run out
the sixty-fifth year of my age. Those only from whom
the Lord hath taken

" Those dear delights they here enjoyed,
And fondly called their own,"

can tell how fond parents in such circumstances feel;
they well know that language cannot describe their feel
ings but in part.

I cannot willingly close my little volume without ad
dressing a few lines more particularly to my own dear
children; nor can I conceive of a place more appropri
ate for that purpose than this.

My dear children, I have you much upon my heart; and
J am now three hundred miles from you, and may never
see you again. As certain as your dear sister is dead,
so certain I must die, and you nlso must die. It is my

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 281

fervent, humble wish and prayer to God, that you may
all be happy; that you may be happy in this world and
in the world to come. But you cannot be happy, unless
you are just arid virtuous. • If you would be happy, you
must be pious; you must love the Lord Jesus Christ in
truth and sincerity, and keep his commandments. I
have already admonished you, and instructed you, and
would now my dear children exhort you to read your
Bible, and especially the New5'Testament, carefully, stu
diously and prayerfully. Remember the Sabbath day;
honor your parents; suppress your anger, your pride,
and every lust. Live in love with each other, and may
the God of all grace bless you in time and eternity.

On the 19th November, 1830, I again left my dear
family for the purpose of disposing ofthe books yet unsold.
My son John accompanied me as far as Kirkland, (about
ten miles) where he was going to stay with my good
friend Enos Nichols, Esq. On the 20th, I went on alone,
alternately indulging hopes and fears. My more intel
lectual and reflecting readers will draw their own con
clusions respecting the state of my mind, in view ofthe
events which had lately occurred in my family, and the
certainty of my enduring the trials of another winter,
(as I had the two preceding, abroad,) if my life should
be prolonged. To me, however, it appeared to be duty.
Painful therefore as the thought was of leaving sweet
home, viewing that the path of duty is the path of safety,
I endeavored to commit my concerns to my God, and
patiently endure his chastenings. After all, the unsta
ble and deceitful heart will repine, if not murmur. While
riding alone through the mud, day after day, it seemed
almost impossible but that I should bring to view, at least
occasionally, the pleasant scenes I had enjoyed a few-
weeks before, when my precious little girls were sitting
on my knees, with each an arm around my neck, amus
ing me with their sweet musical prattle. God forbid
that I should indulge a murmur, though I mourn. His
mercies have been great toward me, and I will praise
him though he chasten me, and although he slay me
yet will I trust in him.

On the 24th, I called on Col. A. Burtt, at Water-
24*

282 MEMOIRS or

vliet. He had read my book, and although an entire
stranger, he and his pious lady treated me with as much
affection as if we had been brothers. Here I left my
horse, and went on to the city of New-York, where I
had the satisfaction to find my much esteemed brother
Daniel Lewis and family all in health. I had also the
satisfaction to find my much esteeemed brother, John
H. Harris and family, in health; who had been and
still were very friendly to me- I spent ten days in the
city, and sold eighty books. I am under especial obli
gations to Mr. John Smalley, a lawyer, and to Mr. G.
Morgan, a book-seller, for the interest they took in aid
ing the sale of my work; nor is the kindness of Judge
Flanigan forgotten. On the 7th of December, I took
the steam-boat for Albany; spent a night at Col. Burtt's,
and set out for Providence. At \\est-Stockbridge, I
was hospitably entertained, by deacon Christopher
French, and at Colebrook by Rev. Rufus Babcock,
where I had ad excellent harbor in a rain-storm. He is
a worthy old brother, whose praise is in all the churches. *

At Canton, Ct. I was kindly entertained by Harvy "
Case, Esq. a Baptist brother, who gave me $ 1 25, fo*
a book. His father, the venerable deacon Elisha Case,
gave me an ancient cane, which had for many years
been the property of Benjamin Mills, late of Can
ton, a deacon of the Congregational church, no less
celebrated for his piety, than for his patriotism. He
was an aid to Gen. Montgomery, who fell by his side
before Quebec, and was afterwards a Quartermaster in
the U. S. service to the close of the war. He died a
few years since, at the advanced age of ninety-seven. In
the last year of his life, he constantly walked two miles
to meeting, on the Sabbath, until within a few weeks of
his death,

It was not convenient to spend but a few min
utes with my worthy brother. Kev. G. Phippen, who
also bought a book. He was engaged in a school. On
the 17th, was kindly entertained, and had an inter
esting interview with a brother Truman Woodford and
lady. Arrived at Hartford on the 18th, arid sold a book
$o deacon Joseph B. Gilbert, by whom and his lady I

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 283

was so kindly provided for in 1823. Spent the Sabbath
in Hartford, and preached for Rev. G. Davis part of the
day; and Monday pursued my journey to Providence,
not having books for Hartford. I design, however, if
the Lord will, to supply them with my second edition.
I arrived at Providence, on the 1st of January, 1831.

Providence to rne is a memorable place. More than
fifty years ago I was landed here, a poor sick beggar,
from prison; and forty-eight years ago, I was landed
here again a prisoner, from the dismal Jersey prison-
ship, in as wretched a condition as any other person who
travelled home in the course of the war. Seven years,
ago, I again visited Providence, although not a beggar
yet in a very dependant condition: having left my fam
ily sick in Ohio, and having but just recovered from a
long fit of sickness, in Middletown, Ct. Since I was
last here, my good brother Gano and many others, have
gone the way of all the earth. I was treated affection
ately by the Rev. Messrs. Pattison and Church, pas
tors of the 1st and 2d Baptist Churches.
While selling my memoirs at the South, in 1 829, 1 under
stood that a Captain Dring of Rhode-Island, was about
to publish his "recollections of the Jersey prison ship."
During this visit to Providence, I was introduced to Al
bert G. Greene, Esq. the editor, and to Mr. H. H. Brown
the publisher of the aforesaid book. They were among
my patrons; the former had the politeness to make me a
present of the aforesaid work. It is written in an ele
gant style, is handsomely executed, and a very interest
ing volume. Until I came to Providence, I had the im
pression that Captain Dring was living. But I find that
he has gone to that borne from which no traveller re
turns; living, however, in respectful remembrance of
the inhabitants of Providence. I also ascertained that the
publication of my memoirs, was the occasion of Captain
Dring's making its appearance. It appears by Captain
Dring's account, that he was released from the Jersey,
early in October, 1782; and I was put on board the Jer
sey late in Nov. 1782. He is much more minute in his
deicription, than I have been in mine.

284 MEMOIRS or

So far as it respects the more prominent parts of the
picture, they made too deep an impression on the mind,
to be easily " forgotten," as he observes, even after the
lapse of (" forty-two") or as I may say, of forty-eight
years. I had forgotten the names of those hospital ships
of which he speaks, the Scorpion, Stromboli, and Hun
ter. It is highly probable that the Frederick was employ
ed as a hospital ship after Capt. Dring left the Jersey,
and the number of prisoners was increased that fall and
winter. The crew of the Chesapeake, consisting of a-
bout three hundred, were brought in at one time, I have
the impression, that on some days, more than twenty died
in a day on board the Jersey and the hospital ships.
I have already said, that there were seven died in one
night, on board the ship where I was confined. It was
Capt. Dring's misfortune to suffer with the heat, and mine
with the cold. In regard to our rations, it is highly prob
able that the same order did not exist when I was on board.

While last in New- York I formed a pleasant acquain
tance with Capt. Jabel Ingraham, of Seekonk, about three
miles from Providence. I found it very convenient to get
my horse kept there, and am under especial obligations to
him and his lady. I spent more than a week at differ
ent times in their family, very agreeably, while the in
clemency of the season prevented my travelling.

B. F. Hailett, Esq. editor of the Daily Advertiser,
gave my book a respectful notice, gratuitously. One of
the first books sold, was to W. R. Staples, Esq. a law
yer. I saw him a few days after; he told me he had sat
up one night till 1 1 o'clock, and another night till one,
and had read my book through; and he had the kindness to
give me a work of R. Williams, worth a dollar.
John Howland, Esq. one of the most respectable citizens
of the place, having bought and read my book, informed
me that the druggist, who so hospitably entertained me
and my uncle forty eight-years ago, when we landed from
the Jersey, must have been Governor Bowen, who at
that time kept a druggist shop in the place I described.
I had the satisfaction to sell one to his son, Henry Bowen,
Esq. who is now Secretary of the State.

Indeed I believe almost all the lawyers in the place
bought of me. I was very liberally patronized by the prin-

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 285

cipal part of the merchants and manufacturers. I am
under especial obligations to Deacon Joseph Martin,
and lady, where I was aflfectionataly entertained, as long
as it was convenient for me to stay. I was highly gratih-
ed in the company of friend Moses Brown, who is over
four score and ten; his faculties seem as bright as if he
was hut sixty — he could tell me much about the ancients
— he very cheerfully bought a book — I asked him if he
could write now — I observed that gentlemen generally
placed their names on my book — told him that it would
be a gratification if he would place his name upon it —
"O yes," said the old patriarch — rose up, went to the
table, mended his pen, and wrote — " Moses Brown, ag
ed 92 years, 3 months, and 25 days" — in as fair a hand
as is generally written. I had the curiosity to write as
follows, viz. " a descendant of Chad Brown, the father of
John Brown; who was the father of James; who was the
father of the second James; who was the fa*ther of the
present Moses Brown; who now has great grand children."
Capt. Solomon Townsend was confined to his house .with,
a lame foot. Mr. Potter, who had bought a book of me,
took it to Capt. Townsend, who read it and sent word
to me, that if I would call on him he would buy one. 1
was entirely willing to avail myself of the opportunity. I
called, found him and his lady very friendly, they having
read rny book, seemed like old acquaintances. She is a
member of the first Baptist church — the Capt. had been
much over the world himself — had been a long time
Capt. of an East India-man, and had been round the
globe. It would be interesting to have his story in de
tail; but it is riot at all probable that the public will ever
get it; were he reduced to my circumstances, such a
thing might be possible. Having spent a night with the
Captain, I spent a day also, for it was stormy. He and
his lady invited me whenever I came to Providence, to
make their house my home. Thus the Lord graciously
raises up friends for me.

I was deeply interested, and highly gratified in the
company of the pious and venerable John Hubbard, Mrs.
Townsend's father. I have already mentioned friend
Moses Brown. These aged patriarchs and my father

266 MEMOIRS OP

were born the same year, but they have outlived him
more than half a century.

About the 1st of Feb. I visited Pawtucket, and had the
satisfaction of visiting Rev. C. Philleo and family, with
whom I had formerly been acquainted ; took part with him
in an interesting meeting at Central Falls. 1 was kind
ly entertained at Capt. Gage's. I was very pleasantly
accommodated several days at brother Bosworth Walk-
er'*; himself and his pious and very agreeable lady, were
very much devoted to me. I made their house my home.
I pray God to reward them for their labor of love. In
Pawtucket I was generously patronized. Went on to
Boston, where I had frequently associated with the wor
thy Baldwin, now no more. Here I found Dr. Bolles,
my old friend. I put up with Rev. William Collier —
preached twice to brother Collier's people — visited good
old Deacon Hiler and his agreeable family — Mr. James
Newhall — Rev. John Peak, an old friend and acquain
tance, Deacon Ileman Lincoln, and many others; but it
was my principal business to sell my books. I^pent
more than two weeks in Boston; sold 120 books, and re
turned to Providence, and agreed with brother Hugh H.
Brown to print another small edition. He very gener
ously made me welcome to his house, and furnishc?d me
with convenient accommodations, while I prepared my
book for a second edition.

Thus I have doomed myself to many months of hard
toil, if the Lord will that my life should be spared, and my
health admit. I can conceive of no more advantageous
employment in which I can engage what little time I may
be permitted to be active. I must, however, leave it all with
God, to do with me and mine as seemeth him good. In
his holy pleasure, I have had much to suffer; he has nev
ertheless been very gracious. Truly, goodness and mer
cy have followed me all my days. He has saved rny feet
from falling, mine eyes from tears, and my soul from death,
while my fellows have been falling all around. I will
therefore say, bless the Lord O my soul, and let all that
is within me bless his holy name.

APPENDIX.

While in the city of New-York, on the last of Nov.
1 understood that Mr. David Williams, the only surviv
or of the capturers of Maj. Andre, was in the city. He
had recently been invited to the city to join the citizens
in celebrating the recent French Revolution. I had the
curiosity to seo him, and had the satisfaction of an in
troduction to him, and the gratification of hearing him
narrate some of the particulars of that important capture.
But a more minute and circumstantial account of the
affair shortly after appeared in the Albany Daily Ad
vertiser. As this document also brings to view "the
deeds of the days of other years," I cheerfully give it
a place in my little volume.

WILLIAMS, THE SURVIVING CAPTOR OF ANDRE.

During the late visit to N. York, I had the gratification
of an introduction and of several interviews with DAVID
WILLIAMS, the only survivor of the three militiamen who
arrested Major Andre ; arid as he is now a subject of
general interest, I shall attempt some description of him,
in the belief that it will be gratifying to the public.

He is now 77 years of age; of good appearance, with
a healthy and somewhat florid countenance, and was in
his youth no doubt, what would be called handsome;
rather thick set, and measured, I should suppose, when
erect, about five feet eight inches; but now, owing to the
rheumatism, he stoops much. He walks quite lame,
leaning on a cane which was presented to him, and
which was made of the wood of the chevaux-de-frieze
placed by the Americans, in the revolution, near West
Point, to prevent the British vessels from ascending the
river. His whole appearance is scuh as will justify the
application to him of the language of Shakspeare:

288 APPENDIX.

" Though 1 look old, yet I am strong and lusty/
For in my youth I never did apply
Hot and rebellious liquor to my blood;
Nor did not with unblushing forehead woo
The means of weakness and debility;
rl herefore flay age is as a lusty winter,
Frosty, bui Kindly."

I spent several hours with him at different times at
the JNinth Ward Hotel in New- York, where he stayed
while in that city, sometimes alone and sometimes in
large companies, and there are lew men with whom I
take more pleasure, than I did with him. He is a man
of very general information, and has evidently been a
steady and close reader of newspapers. He has a thor
ough knowledge of all the political events which have
occurred in the world for many years. With politics of
this country, generally, and with that of this state partic
ularly, he is well acquainted.

While I was with him, I saw him introduced to a large
number who had called to see him, and I was pleased
at the easy and happy manner in which he received them.
I also saw him introduced to some ladies, and the native
and unaffected politeness with which he approached
them, and touched their cheeks (a privilege which he
claims of all the ladies to whom he is presented, and
which is no doubt always willingly granted) pleased and
interested all present.

1 was present when an interview took place between
him and a man named Abraham Le Foy, who was in the
army at West Point, at the time of the detection of Ar
nold. It was affecting to see the greetings which they
gave each other, and heart stirring to hear them talk of
days gone by, of hardships suffered, and privations en
dured, in the cause of liberty. The fire of patriotism ap
peared to burn in their breasts with renewed vigor, and
the tears which dropped from their aged and bedimmed
eyes were answered by like tokens of feeling in the spec
tators.

It was not the least gratifying part of my communion
with the veteran, to hear him describe an interview which
he had with Washington soon after the capture of Andre.
That hero took him and his two companions, Van Wart

APPENDIX. 289

and Paulding, by the hand, and thanked them in warm
terms, in behalf of himself and the nation, for the ser
vices they had rendered, and congratulated them on their
firmness and patriotism in regarding their country before
wealth. Washington said to them, on parting, "young
men, take care of yourselves." At this time, neither
Williams nor Van Wart could read; Paulding being the
one who perused the papers found on Andre. From
that moment, they determined to acquire a knowledge of
letters, and they carried their determination into effect,
and endeavored generally to follow the advice of the Fa
ther of his country.

One evening a large party had assembled at the above
hotel, to pay their respects to Williams, and some good
singers favored the company with some national songs.
It was gratifying to witness the enthusiasm manifested
by the veteran, at the patriotic sentiments of the songs,
and he joined in chorus with much feeling. He him
self sung a song written during the revolution; the last
words of every verse, were " the brave George Wash
ington." These words he sounded to the very top of
his voice, and in a tone and manner whkfh exhibited
that his whole soul was wrapt in love of country, and in
grateful feeling- to the great and good man whose name
he repeated with such emphasis.

Williams wears at his breast a medal, which was pre
sented to him by Congress, as a mark of his services in
capturing Andre; this he exhibits with a laudable pride.
Congress also granted him a pension of $300 a year. A
small compensation for the value of his services.

While he was in New-York, at the time of which I am
speaking, the scholars of the Ninth Ward Public School
presented him with an elegant silver pitcher, contain
ing appropriate inscriptions. With this present, he was
exceedingly gratified; and I am told by those who were
at the presentation, that the veteran's voice was almost
inaudible, so much was he affected at this mark of youth
ful regard and gratitude. This pitcher became a great
favorite with his numerous visitors; and hundreds of per
sons drank from it, declaring that it gave an excellent
flavor to the liquor. A beautiful and substantial horse and
25

290 APPENDIX.

wagon were also presented to him by a number of gentle
men. He sat for several portraits. He visited the Bowery
theatre by request of the managers, and a box was decorat
ed for him. When he entered the house, he was received
with deafening cheers, and he acknowledged the honor by
repeated bows. The statement in some papers, that he
himself gave, in the theatre, a history oi the transaction
which has immortalized him, is erroneous: That history
was read by the manager. A splendid ball was also given
him at the Ninth Ward Hotel. Many other tokens of
affection and regard were given him.

The veteran expressed himself highly gratified at the
kindness and attention which were bestowed on him
while in New-York. He was much attached to Mr.
Campbell, the proprietor of the Ninth Ward Hotel, who
was deputed to visit him at his residence at Livingston-
viSle, Schoharie co. and invite him to join with the inhab
itants of the Ninth WTard, in celebrating the French rev
olution; and who also waited on him back to his home.

The visit of Williams to the metropolis, and his parti
cipating in the celebration of the glorious events which
have occurred in France, have surely had a most happy
and salutary effect in sustaining a love of country, and
awakening lively feelings of pure and lofty patriotism in
the hearts of thousands who saw him. The sight of him
would cause their minds to recur to the days of gloom
and despondency, when a young and weak nation was
manfully and almost hopelessly resisting the giant power
of a kingdom, which had never bowed before any. When
a people, poor and harassed, with an army nearly with
out food, and often without clothing to keep them warm,
and without shelter to protect them from the wintry blast,
were contending against a power with whom gold was
like dirt, and whose soldiers had every comfort and con
venience which were required! When one of our best
generals, high in the confidence of Washington, and el
evated in the esteem of his countrymen, forgetting his
honor and throwing from him his glory, basely bargain
ed to sell himself to disgrace, and his country to ruin,
for the possession of lucre, and the gratification of private
and unworthy revenge.

APPENDIX. 291

Their minds would then revert to the singular fact
that three obscure and unknown young men, bound
to their country by no tie except birth, but governed by
that high and holy spirit of patriotism which can find
lodgment only in pure hearts, firmly resisted offers far
exceeding in value those which have tempted to infamy
many, filling important places in their country's service.

The reflections which would ensue could not but pro
duce the most elevated feelings of virtue and patriotism.
There they saw before them, like a bent and venerable
oak, alone upon the plain, and rejoicing with them at the
success of principles inherent in his nature, one of those
men who nobly preferred their country to wealth — their
honest poverty to ignobly obtained riches. They could
say, "there is an INCORRUPTIBLE PATRIOT — there is the
NOBLEST WORK OF GOD, an HONEST MAN." They
could show him to their children and tell them his histo
ry. Need it be said what benign effect the lesson would
have on the young mind ?

Williams is now travelling to the land to which his
two associates and most others of the times of the revo
lution have gone before him. His downward path is one
of calmness, for virtue is his companion. It is one of
happiness, for the prayers of the good, and the blessings
of the patriot accompany him on the way. And when
he shall have arrived at the last gaol, paeons of joy will
arise and shouts of congratulation be poured forth from
his fellows, at the coming among them of one whose pu
rity could receive no just reward till he entered into the
rest and partook of the bliss of heaven.

The following brief history of the life of Williams,
previous to the capture of Andre, and detailed statement
of that event, were written down as dictated by him, and
give a more full account of himself and the capture, than
has ever been published. It was read to him after it was
written, and he certified to its correctness. His own
language is preserved throughout, as near as might, be.

I was born in Tarrrytown, then called Philip's Manor,
Westchester county, New- York, 1754. I entered the
army 1775, at the age of 21, and was under General
Montgomery at the taking of Fort St. Johns, and after-

292 APPENDIX.

wards on board of flat bottomed boats to carry provisions
Sec. ; served out my time, which was six months; I then
went home, listed again in the spring of 1776, and contin
ued in the service by different enlistments, as a New-
York militiaman, until 1779.

In 1778, when in Captain Acker's company of New-
York militia at Tarrytown, I asked his permission to take
a walk in company with William Van Wart, a boy about
sixteen or seventeen years old. I proceeded to the
cross roads on Tompkins' ridge, stood looking a few
minutes, and saw five men coming; they had arms; we
jumped over a stone fence and concealed ourselves in a
corner of it; observed that they were armed with two
muskets and three pistols. They came so nigh that we
recognized two of them, viz. William Underbill, and Will
iam Mosher, who were known to be of De Lancy's corps,
who were tories. When they came within proper dis
tance, 1 said to my companion, " Billy, neck or no joint!"
I then said aloud, as if speaking to a number, with the
view of intimidating them, " men make ready." — They
stopped immediately; I told them to ground their arms,
which they did: I then said; "march away," they did so;
I then jumped over the fence, secured their arms, and
made them march before us to our quarters. I contin
ued in the service until a week or ten days before the
year 1780.

In December, 1779, Captain Daniel Williams, who
was the commander of our company, mounted us on
horses, and we went to Morrisiana, Westchester coun
ty. We swept all Morrisiana clear, took probably
$5000 worth of property, returned to Tarrytown, and
quartered at Young's house. My feet being frozen,
my uncle Martinus Van Wart took rne to his house. I
told Capt. Williams that the enemy would soon be at
Young's, and that if he remained there he would be on
his way to Morrisiana before morning. He paid no at
tention to my remarks; he did not believe me; but in
the course of the night a woman came to my uncle's,
crying, "Uncle Martinus! Uncle Martinus! the enemy
are at Young's house!" which was the truth, as the
British had surrounded it, made prisoners of all the com
pany excepting two, and burnt the barn.

APPENDIX. 293

Having got well of my frozen feet, on the 3d of June,
1780, we were all driven from Tarry town to the upper
part of Westchester county, in the town of Salem. We
belonged to no organized company at all; were under
no command, and worked for our board or Johnny Cake.
Isaac Van Wart, who was a cousin of mine, Nicholas
Storms, and myself, went to Tarrytown on a visit; we
carried our muskets with us, and on our way took a
Quaker, who said he was going to New- York after salt
and other things. The Quaker was taken before the
American authority and acquitted.

In July or August, a number of persons, of whom 1
was one, went to visit our friends in Tarrytown, and
while on the way, took ten head of cattle, which some
refugees were driving to New- York, and on examina
tion before the authority, the cattle were restored to
their right owners, as they pleaded innocence, saying
they were stolen from them. I then returned to Salem
and worked with a Mr. Benedict for my board, 'until the
22d of September. It was about one o'clock, P. M. as
I was standing in the door with Mr. Benedict's daugh
ter, (who was afterwards my wife) when I saw six men
coming; she remarked, " they have got guns." I
jumped over a board fence and met them. " Boys,"
said I, " where are you going?" They answered, " we
are going to Tarrytown." I then said, " if you will
wait until I get my gun, I will go with you." The names
of five of these persons were Isaac Van Wart, John
Paulding, William Williams, John Yerks, and James
Romer; the name of the sixth I have forgotten. We pro
ceeded about fifteen miles that night, and slept in a hay
barrack. In the morning we crossed Buttermilk hill,
when John Paulding proposed to go to Isaac Reed's,
and get a pack of cards to divert ourselves with. After
procuring them we went to Davis' Hill, where we
separated; leaving four on the hill, and three, viz. Van
Wart, Paulding and myself, proceeded on the Tarry-
town road about one mile, and concealed .-ourselves in
the bushes on the west side of the road, and commenc
ed playing cards, three handed, that is, each one for
himself. We had not been playing more than an hour,
25*

294 APPENDIX.

when we heard a horse galloping across a bridge but a
few yards from us; which of us spoke I do not remem
ber; one of us said, "there comes a trader going to
New-York." We stepped out from our concealment
and stopped him. " My lads," said he, " I hope you
belong to our party." We asked him "what party?"
He replied " the lower party." We told him " we did."
He then said, " I am a British officer, have been up the
country on particular business, and would not wish to
be detained a minute," and as a token to convince us
he was a gentleman, he pulled out and shewed us his
gold watch; we then told him we were Americans. —
"God bless my soul," said he, "a man must do any
thing these times to get along," and then shewed us Ar
nold's pass. We told him " it would not satisfy us
without searching him." "My lads," said he, "you
will bring yourselves into trouble." We answered,
" we did not fear it," and conducted him about seventy
rods into the woods. My comrades appointed me to
search him; commencing with his hat, I searched him,
but found nothing, until I pulled off one of his boots,
when we discovered that something was concealed in
his stocking. Paulding caught hold of his foot and ex
claimed, " By G — , here it is!" I pulled off his stock
ing, and inside of it, next the sole of his foot, found
three half sheets of paper, enclosed in another half
sheet, which was endorsed " West Point;" and on pul
ling off the other boot and stocking, I found three like
papers, enclosed and endorsed as the others. On read
ing them, one of my comrades said, " By G — , he is a
spy." We then asked him where he got those papers;
he told us, "of a man at Pine's Bridge, but he said he
did not know his name. He offered us his gold watch,
his horse, saddle, bridle, and 100 guineas, if we would
let him go; we told him "no; but he must inform us
where he got the papers." He answered us as before,
but increased his offer to 1000 guineas, his horse, &c.
we told him again we would not let him go, he then
said, " gentlemen, I will give you 10,000 guineas and
as many dry goods as you will ask, conceal me in any
place of safety, while you can send to New- York, with

APPENDIX. 295

an order to Sir Henry Clinton, from me, and the
goods and money will be procured, so that you can get
them unmolested." We told him lt no, his offers were
in vain, we were Americans, and above corruption, and
go with us he must." We then took him about twelve
miles to Colonel Jamison's quarters, at North Castle.

Having had while in Providence the satisfaction of a
personal interview with John Howland, Esq. a veteran
of the revolution, and shortly after, noticing in the Pro
vidence Journal his letter to the Secretary of War,
I indulge myself the gratification of presenting my pat
rons with the same. The letter is thus introduced by
the Editor of the Journal.

The following letter will be read with deep interest, by
every one who feels the least sympathy for the heroes of the
Revolution. It details in part the most gloomy campaign
during our struggles for independence, while it will enable
the historian to record what ought long ago to have been
recorded, that at the most gloomy hour oi our Revolution,
at the close of 1776, our country was saved, and saved by
Rhode-Island valor. The brilliant affairs at Princeton and
Trenton, in the depth of winter, were mainly achieved by
Col. Lippitt's regiment; and General Washington, at the
time acknowledged it ; yet so sparing has the historian been
of his praises, that we do not remember that he has conde
scended to mention the part the Rhode-Island troops took
in those battles.

But what is still more singular, the few remaining survivors
of this regiment, who are in indigent circumstances, have
been heretofore denied pensions, under the frivolous ' pre -
tence, (for it is nothing else but pretence) that this regiment
did not serve nine months on the continental establishment.
It was raised for one year, in January, 1776, and immediate
ly went upon duty; yet, it is said, it was not voted into the
continental line until May; and as its time of enlistment ex
pired on the 18th of January, '77, it lacked a few days of
having served nine months, the period which the law con
templates, to entitle one to a pension. But what is still

296 APPENDIX.

more singular 3 it was decided by Mr. Calhoun, when Secre
tary of War, as we have understood, that the nine months
" at any period of the war, (the words of the law of March,
1818, must be construed to mean nine months at one pe
riod, under one enlistment,') thus excluding the voluntary
enlistment of this brave regiment for one month, in the
depth of the winter of '76 — '7; also making law, rather
than administering it, as it stands in the statute book. —
Were this voluntary enlistment admitted, this regiment
would have served over nine months, at one period, even
from May; but without it, it wanted a few days only of
that time. But we hope better things of the present Secre
tary, though no favorite of ours, who, we understand, has
been requested to revise the former decision in regard to this
regiment, and to whom a duplicate of the following letter has
been sent.

BENJAMIN COWELL, ESQ. —

De^r Sir: You having requested me to state what is within my
knowledge relating to the Regiment commanded by Col. Christo
pher Lippitt, in the year 1776, with a view to the right which the
few survivors have to claim the aid of the Government for support,
during the short period which may yet remain to men so far ad*
vanced in life, I will endeavor, as far as I am able, to comply with
your request.

Early in the month of January, J776, the General Assembly of
the then colony of Rhode-Island, resolved to raise a Regiment, in
addition to those already in service, to serve for the term of one
year from the eighteenth day of that month. Colonel H-cnry Bab-
cock was appointed to command the Regiment, which was to con
sist or be composed of twelve companies. Two or three months
after the men were enlisted, Col. Babcock quit the service, and Lt.
Col. Lippitt was promoted to the command. The men were soon
enlisted, and quartered in Newport. I enlisted in the 7th compa
ny, commanded by Captain David Dexter. I was then eighteen
years and three months old. The following is a copy of the en
listment which we signed; I have just copied it from the Stati-
records:

"I, the subscriber, hereby solemnly engage and enlist myself r;
a soldier in the pay of the colony of Rhode-Island, for the preserva
tion of the liberties of America, and the defence of the United

APPENDIX. f 297

Colonies in general, and this colony in particular, from the day of
my enlistment for one year, unless the service shall admit of a dis
charge sooner, which shall be at the discretion of the General As
sembly. And I hereby promise to submit to all orders and regula
tions of the army, and faithfully to observe and obey such orders
as I shall receive from time to time from my superior officers."

The officers of the Regiment were at fiist commissioned by the
Governor of the colony; they some time after received commissions
from the President of Congress, and I have understood that the
decision of the War Office, which excluded any of thi.s Regiment
from the pension list, was predicated on the circumstance of the of
ficers having, during part of the term, been commissioned by the-
State. Whatever validity there may have been in this, it could
only operate in the cast of a commissioned officer, for all the non
commissioned and privates were marched out of the State, and
joined the army under General Washington, under the binding
force of the articles of the enlistment, which they subscribed on
entering the Regiment; and we, from the day of our enlistment,
had always supposed that wd were liable to be ordered to join the
main army, at any moment when the general good of the whole,
or the exigency of the case might render it necessary or expedient'
and this was sufficiently tested after the disastrous action on Long-
Island, when we were ordered to embark from Rhode-Island, and
join General Washington at New- York, as we knew from the ten
or of the enlistment, we were engaged for the service of the United
Colonies, or States

The Regiment served one complete year, under the enlistment,
and engaged voluntarily for another month, under the following
circumstances.

On the 31st day of December, 1776, the remnants of all the di
visions, brigades or regiments, which had composed the army of
the U. States at the opening of the campaign, together with a com
pany of volunteers, from Philadelphia, were assembled at a
place called Crosswicks, in Jersey; the term of service of all the
Continental troops, except ours, (Lippitt's regiment,) expired on
that evening: we, our regiment only, were held for eighteen days
more, our year having commenced on the 18th of January, 177G.
The brigade to which we were attached, was composed of five
regiments, three of which (Yarnum's, Hitchcock's aud Lippitt's.}

298 APPENDIX.

were from Rhode-Island; and the other two (Nixon's and Little's,)
were from Massachusetts. Col. Daniel Hitchcock, the oldtst Co-
lonel present, commanded this brigade; of the number of men,
Lippitt's counted more than one third. Tins was the time which
tried both body and soul. We had by order of the General, left
oui tents at ISristol, on the other side of the Delaware. We were
st-inding on frozen ground, which was covered with snow. The
hope of the Commander in Chief, was sustained by the character
of theso half frozen, halt starved men, that he could persuade them
to volunteer for another month. He made the attempt, and it suc
ceeded. He dhected or requested General Mifflin to address or
harangue our biigade — he did it well, although he made some
promises, perhaps, without the advice of General Washington,
which were never fulfilled. Ho said all or every thing which
should be taken from the enemy during the month, should be the
property of the men, and the value of it divided among them.
These promises, although they had no weight or effect in inducing
the men to engage, ought to have been fulfilled, though, at the
tune they were made, no one could luppose it probable we could
take stores or baggage from the enemy, who had six men to our
one then in Jersey. The request of the General was assented to,
hv our unanimously poising the firelock, as a signal. Within two
hours after this vote, we were on our march for Trenton, which
place we had loft two days previous. From the badness of the
road, the darkness of the night, and accidents to the artillery car
riages, or the falling of a horse, t^-c. we consumed the whole night
in the march, and quartered in the morning in houses from which the
Hessians had been taken the week before. \Vheri we had kindled a
fire, and were collecting from our knapsacks or pockets a stray rem-
jiant of bread or tainted pork, and thus taking our little share of rest
or comfort, the drums beat, and we were immediately paraded. Most
of those who have attempted to write a history of the war, have
given some, though imperfect accounts of the transactions of this
day. Lord Cornwallis was on the inarch from Princeton, with, as
it wus said, ten thousand men, to beat up our quarters. — Here was
the whole armv of the United States, which was supposed to amount
to about four thousand men, commanded by His Excellency Gen
eral Washington, Miiljin, Sullivan, Greene, Knox, &c.

APPENDIX. 299

Our troops were posted on the south side of a brook or small riv
er, which crosses the town near the south end, and enters the Del
aware; a continuation of the Main street crossed this little river over
a stone bfidge. It was evidently the purpose of Geneial Wash-
ington, to induce Cornwallis to approach and enter the town, at
the nonh end, for this purpose, a company of artillery and a pick
et was placed on the road leading from Princeton, who were at
tacked by the advance of the British. Our brigade was ordered to
cross the bridge and march through the main town street, to cover
the retreat of the artillery and picket, into and through the north
end of the town. This was towards the close of the day. We met
them and opened our ranks to let them pass through; we then clos
ed in a compact and rather solid column, as the street through
which v\e were to retreat to the bridge was narrow, and the Brit
ish pressed closely on our rear; part of the enemy pressed into a
street, between the Main street and the Delaware, and fired into
our right flank, at every space between the houses; when what
was no'.v our front, arrived near the bridge which we were to pass,
and where the lower, or Water-street formed a junction with the
Main street, the British made a quick advance in an oblique direc
tion to cut us off from the bridge; in this they did not succeed, as
we had a shorter distance in a direct line to the bridge than they
had, and our artillery, which was posted on the south side of the
brook, between the bridge and the Delaware, played into the front
and flank of their column, which induced them to fall back; the
bridge was narrow, and our platoons were in passing it crowded
into a dense and solid mass, in the rear of which, the enemy were ma
king their best efforts. The noble horse of Gen. Washington stood
with his breast pressed close against the end of the west rail of the
bridge, and the firm, composed, and majestic countenance of the
General inspired confidence and assurance in a moment so impor
tant and critical. In this passage across the bridge, it was my for
tune to be next the west rail, and arriving at the end of the biidge
rail, I pressed against the shoulder of the General's horse, and in
contact with the boot of the General. The horse stood as firm as
the rider, and seemed to understand that he was not to quit his poat
and station. When I was about halfway across the bridge, the
General addressed himself to Col. Hitchcock, the commander of
the brigade, directing him to march his men to that field, and form

300 APPENDIX.

them immediately, or instantly, or as quick as possible; which of
the terms he used, 1 am not certain; at the same time extending
his arm and pointing to a little meadow, at a little distance, on the
south side of the creek or river, and between the road and the Del
aware. This order was promptly obeyed, and then we advanced
to the edge of the stream, facing the enemy, who soon found it pru
dent to fall back under cover of the houses. What passed at the
bridge while we were forming as directed, I of course did not wit
ness, but understood that as soon as our brigade had passed, the
cannon which had been drawn aside, to leave us a passage, were
again placed at the end of the bridge and discharged into the front
of the enemy's column, which was advancing towards it; at the
same time several pieces placed at the right and left of the bridge,
with musketry at the intervals, took them partly in flank. They
did not succeed in their attempt to cross the bridge, arid although
the creek was fordable between the bridge and the Delaware, they
declined attempting a passage there, in the face of those, who pre
sented a more serious obstruction than the water.

Night closed upon us, and the weather, which had been mild
and pleasant through the day, became intensely cold. On one
hour, yes, on forty minutes, commencing at the moment when the
British troops first saw the bridge and creek before them, depend
ed the all-important, the all-absorbing question, whether we
should be Independent States, or conquered rebels! Had the army
of Cornwallis within that space have crossed the bridge, or forded
the creek, unless a miracle intervened, there would have been an
end of the American army. If any fervent mind should doubt
this, it must be from his not knowing the state of our few half-
starved, half-frozen, feeble, worn out men, with old fowling pie
ces for muskets, and half of them without bayonets, and the States
so disheartened, discouraged, or poor, that they sent no reinforce
ments, no recruits to supply the places of this handful of men, who,
but the day before, had volunteered to remain with their venerated
and beloved commander, for thirty days more. General Mercer,
who led on the Philadelphia volunteers, fell mortally wounded
in the beginning of the action.

The match that night from Trenton to Princeton, is well known.
It was not by the direct road ; a considerable part of it was by a
new passage, which appeared to have been cut through the woods,

APPENDIX. 301

as the stubs were left from two to five inches high. We moved
slow on account of the artillery, frequently coming to a halt, or
stand still, and when ordered forward again, one, two, or three
men in each platoon, would stand, with their arms supported, fast
asleep ; a platoon next in the rear advancing on them, they, in
walking, or attempting to move, would strike a stub and fall. —
Our proceedings at Princeton, are matters or history, except one
circumstance, which has a bearing on the present question— and
that is, the commander in ckief took the commander of our brig
ade by thehand, after the action — expressing his high approbation
of his conduct, and that of the troops he commanded — and wished
him to communicate his thanks to his officers and men.

Besides the prisoners taken at Princeton, there were a number
of wagons loaded with the army baggage. I suppose it was about
noon when we left Princeton with the prize goods and prisoners ;
we marched quick, as the advance guard of the British army
whom we had left the night before at Trenton, were said to be
close in our rear, following us as they supposed to Brunswick, the
head quarters of General Howe, but in three or four miles, we
turned a square corner and proceeded north, towards Somerset
Court-House. The British continued on to Brunswick. Ten or
eleven o'clock at night, we arrived at the Court-House, in which
the prisoners were shut up. It will be remembered this was the
third night's march, and under arms or marching all day. There
were barely houses sufficient for the quarters of the Generals and
their attendants. The troops took up their abode for the rest of
the night, on the frozen ground. All the fences and every thing
that would burn, was piled in different heaps and burnt, and he
was the most furtunate who could get nigh enough to srael! the
fire or smoke. The next day, we continued our march towards
Morristown. About the third day after our arrival at Morrigtown,
the commander of our brigade, Col. Daniel Hitchcock, died, fiom
the sufferings he had experienced in this dreadful campaign. He
was a very accomplished gentleman, and a fine officer ; few of
the Generals exceeded or equalled him in talents; he was educa
ted at Yale. After this, the brigade was broken up. The re
giments which had comprised it, being sent to different stations,
near the enemy's lines. Our regiment, Lippitt's, had our head
quarters at a place called Chatham, detachments being continu-
26

302 APPENDIX.

ally on duty in the neighborhood of the British lines at Brunswick.
At length we were discharged in the month of February, by de
tachments or small guards, as it was said we could better find lodg
ings or shelter for a night on the road. Our paper money wages,
forty shillings the month, was never paid fully, and we received
nothing to bear our expenses home.

" Some had to beg their bread
Through realms their valor saved."

I ought to have mentioned in the beginning of this desultory
narrative, that the men had no bounty, when they enlisted, and
were not furnished with any clothes ; we found our own clothes,
and we had the promise of forty shillings per month, but, as an
outfit, we had two months pay in advance. This will account for
the fact, that many of our men long before the close of this sei-
vice, whose shoes were worn out, repaired to the butcher's yard,
and cut out a piece of raw hide, which they laced, with strips of
the same skin, about their feet. This, when the weather was
moist, was not so utterly bad ; but I recollect as soon as my moc
casins became frozen, they chafed my toes till they bled. On the
next day's march, I 'left the quarter guard ; as we were passing a
Dutchman's house, the good man had gone to the barn; I propos
ed to his wife to buy an old pair of shoes, which I saw at the
head of a bed; she said her husband would not sell his shoes; I
showed her the situation of my feet, and offered in haste, what
ought to have been the price of a new pair ; she took the money
and I carried off the shoes. She may have been induced to close
the bargain, from an apprehension, that I would take them at all
events, though I hope this did not influence her decision.

In mentioning the vote taken at Croswick's, to serve another
month, I ought to have stated a circumstance, which rendered this
act of the Rhode Island troops more of a patriotic character, than
that of the other troops, composing the line of the army.

December 6, 1776, General Clinton arid Lord Percy, with a Brit
ish army, landed and took possession of the island of Rhode-
Island. This news was brought to our regiment, the day vre
crossed the Delaware, at Easton, after General Lee was taken
from us on our passage from Hudson river, through Jersey west
ward. This news from Rhode-Island more seriously affected
Lippitt's regiment than any other. This corps was not composed
of such materials as generally compose a standing army. We
were mostly young men, who had left parents or near connections
at home. The most of two companies, Carr's and Brownell's,
were natives of the Island, and ihose who were from the main
land were in doubt and uncertainty, whether the towns up the riv
er, or indeed the whole State was not possessed, or been devastated
by the enemy. This was reason sufficient, without taking into the
account the sufferings of tbe season, for us to wish to return home,
to search for, or know the fate of the nearest connections ; and

APPENDIX. 303

this too, will furnish an apology for the State to which we belong
ed, for riot sending us any partial supplies of clothing, and espe
cially of shoes, before our discharge, as a third part of the State
was in possession of the enemy, and exertions weie tken mak
ing, to raise and equip three regiments of troops, for the de
fence of the lemainder. Under all these disadvantages, when
our time of service had expired, the State sent an agent, Mr.
J. J. Hazard, with a quantity of shoes, for those he should
meet, who were barefooted. We met him at Peekskill, and
there he presented me with a new pair, and there I left what
remained of those I bought of the Dutch woman ; and with
the new ones, after being detained in that neighborhood three
weeks by sickness, I travelled home to Providence.

To return to the subject of the pension list. I know of not
more than six or seven now living, who have aeked to be plac
ed on the list. Poor, infirm old men — who in the prime of their
youth, by the side of Washington, defended the pass at Tren
ton bridge, and made these what they now are, independent
States. And why are they excluded ? because the Secretary at
war, Mr. Calhoun, thought they had not been nine months in the
service of the United States. Is it possible? Can it be possible ?

JOHN ROWLAND.

PROVIDENCE, NOVEMBER 24, 1830.

Notices of some of tJte officers of Lippittfs Regiment,
after the same was disbanded.

After Col. Lippitt returned home he was appointed Major Gen.
•of the Militia of the State.

The Lt. Col. Adam Comstock, settled at the close of the
•war, in Saratoga, and was a member of the Legislature, and
one of the council, with the first Gov. Clinton of New-York.

Capt. William Jones^ of this Regiment was in 1811 elected
Governor of this State, in which he served five or six years.

Capt. Martin was Lt. Governor.

Capt. Hoppin was Colonel of the senior class of militia of the
county, and several years one of the Representatives of the
Town of Providence in the General Assembly.

Lt. Sayles was for a number of years a member of the House
of Representatives.

Philip Martin who entered as a Sergeant in this Regiment and
was promoted to the office of Ensign, and carried the colors of
the Regiment, in the action at Princeton, was at the time of
his death a State Senator.

Ensign Thomas Noyes, of Capt. Stanton's company, was for
many years a Representative from the town of Westerly, and
was one of the electors of President and Vice-President of the
United States.

Benjamin Bourne, the Quartermaster, was a member of the
State Convention, which adopted the constitution, and was the
first Representative in Congress chosen by the State under the
new government; he was afterwards ono of the three Judges of
the Eastern Circuit of the United States.

304 APPENDIX.

GENERAL BARTON.

As my visit and business in Providence were calcu
lated to bring up again to view some of the more inter
esting events of the Revolution, General Barton, who
captured the British General, Prescott, was several
times named to me. 1 was anxious to have the honor
and gratification of a personal interview with the vener
able patriot. With this favor I was indulged; but it
was a striking admonition to me. His mental powers
were much depreciated, and the good old gentleman
was apprised of the fact. He could recollect with some
precision the events of former years; but recent events
were obliterated from his mind. A fow more rolling
suns, and the last grave of an actor in the war of the
revolution, will have closed.

The following particulars of the capture of General
Prescott, by General (then Col. Barton) I have extract
ed from a small volume recently published, entitled
" Tales, National and Revolutionary. By Mrs. C. R.
Williams."

THE capture of Gen. Prescott was not that rash and*
headlong adventure (though an exploit sufficiently haz
ardous) that some attempted to make it appear. It was
planned and executed with consummate prudence, arid
had been for some time the subject of reflection and
calculation in the mind of Col. Barton. It may be rec
ollected that Gen. Lee had been captured by surprise in
the preceding November, at Baskinbridge, in New-
Jersey, by Col. Harcourt, who learning he was lodged
in a remote country house, while he was scouring the
country with his cavalry, appeared suddenly before him,
and securing the sentinels, mounted him on a swift
horse, and conveyed him to New-York. There was no-
one in the country who felt more on this occasion than
Col. Barton, and from the moment that the circumstance
was made known to him, he resolved, if ever an oppor
tunity offered, to surprise some Major-General of the
British army, in order to procure his release. That
opportunity offered: In the month of June, 1777, a Mr.
Coffin made his escape from the enemy on Rhode-Island,
and was brought to his quarters. From this person he

APPENDIX, 305

learnt that the General was quartered at the house of a
Mr. Overing, on the west side of the Island, describing
it particularly. He was followed by a deserter the next
day, who gave the same intelligence.

The troops stationed at Tiverton were not inured to
service, nor Col. Barton either; and this circumstance
alone caused him to debate a few days before he com
municated the project of surprising Gen. Prescott, to
any one. He first communicated it to Col. Stanton,
and received his advice and ready concurrence. He
then selected several officers, whose ability and secrecy
he judged from personal acquaintance he could confide
in, and asked them if they were willing to go with him
on an enterprise, the particular object of which he could
not then inform them of. They all consented, at once.
Their names and rank were as follow: Ebenezer Adame,
Captain of artillery; Samuel Phillips, Captain; James
Potter, Lieutenant; Joshua Babcock, Lieutenant; An
drew Stanton, Ensign; and John Willcox.

The next step to be taken was to procure boats, a
thing attended with some difficulty, as there were but
two at the station. However, in a few days they ob
tained five whale boats, and had them fitted in the beet
possible manner. All was now ready except the men,
who had not been en-gaged, for fear it would create sus
picion. As Col. Barton wished to have them all vol
unteers, the regiment was ordered to be paraded. He
then addressed them, telling them he was about under
taking an enterprise against the enemy, and wished to
have forty volunteers; desiring those who were willing
to risk their lives with him, to advance two paces in
front. At this the whole regiment advanced. After
thanking them for their willingness, he selected forty,
whom he knew understood rowing, and upon whom he
might depend. With this company they embarked for
Bristol first, on the fourth of July; but a heavy storm of
thunder and rain, when they got into Mount Hope Bay,
obliged them to separate, and Col. Barton lost sight of
all the boats but one; those two kept together and ar
rived at Bristol at ten o'clock at night on the fifth, thus
being two days in crossing the ferry. Proceeding to
the commanding officer's quarters, he there found ano-

306 APPENDIX.

ther deserter from the British camp, who gave him con
siderable misinformation upon being questioned. How
ever, at eight o'clock the other boats arrived, and the Col.
took the officers with him to Hog Island, from which they
had a distinct view of the British encampment and ship
ping, and there he first unfolded his plan to them. They
appeared surprised, but after his telling them the situa
tion of the house where Gen. Prescott lodged, and the
part he wished ea^ch to act in the intended enterprise,
they consented, and promised not to give the least hint
of it. They then returned to Bristol, and staid until
about nine at night of the sixth, when they re-embarked
and crossed over to Warwick Neck, from whence they
meant to take their departure for the Island. On the
seventh, the wind changed to the E. N. E. and brought
on a storm, some obstacles intervened on the eighth and
they did not take their departure until nine o'clock on
the ninth.

Before the departure of the boats, the Colonel number
ed them all, and appointed each his place. To every
boat, there was one commissioned officer, exclusive of
Col. Barton. The party consisted of forty-one men, of
ficers inclu'ded. Before their departure, the Colonel
collected them in a circle and addressed them, acquaint
ed them with the object of the enterprise, and the hazard
attending it, and pledging them to take the lead and
share every danger, whatever it might be, equally with
his soldieis, entreating them to preserve the strictest or
der, and not to have the least idea of plunder; to pre
serve profound silence, and ordering them, if any had
been so imprudent as to furnish himself with any spirit
uous liquors, to leave it. After commending them to
the great Disposer of events, they proceeded to the
shore.

The commanding officer at Warwick Neck was di
rected to keep a sharp look out, and if he should hear
the report of three distinct muskets, to come on to the
north end of Prudence to take them off; for they had
reasons to fear the British men of war might send their
boats out, and cut them off from the main.

In the forward boat Col. Barton posted himself with a
pole ten feet long and a handkerchief tied to the end of

APPENDIX. 307

it, so that his boat might bo known from the others, and
that none might go before it. They went between the
Islands of Prudence and Patience, in order that the
shipping which lay against Hope Island, might not dis
cover them, and rowed under the west side of Prudence
till they carne to the south end, when they heard the
enemy on board their ships cry out "All's well." —
When they were within about three quarters of a mile
of Rhode-Island, they heard a great noise like the run
ning of horses. This threw a consternation over the
whole party; but none spoke. They slackened fora
moment, but the Colonel concluding it was only the ac
cidental running of horses, as they often do when let
loose, concluded to push on and soon gained the shore
— There was then a man left to each boat to keep
them ready for a push, for fear the enemy might try to
impede their retreat. The party were then marched in
five divisions to the house, which was just one mile from
the shore, preserving the strictest silence.

The entrance to the house where Gen. Prescott had
taken his quarters, was by three doors, on the south,
east and west; three of the five divisions were to attack
each a door. The fourth to guard the road, the fifth to
act on emergencies. They left the guard house on the
left; on the right was a house where a party of light
horse were quartered in order to carry orders from Gen.
Prestcott, to any part of the Island. When they open
ed the gate of the front yard, the sentinel who stood
about twenty-five yards from them, hailed " who comes
there?" They gave no answer, but continued marching
on. There being a row of trees between them, he could
not so well distinguish their number. He again hailed,
and they answered "friends." "Advance and give
the countersign." To which Gen. Barton answered, as
in a great passion, " We have no countersign, but have
you seen any deserters to night?" This had been con
trived as a decoy, and it had the effect, for before he
suspected them to be enemies, they had seized his mus
ket and made him prisoner, telling him if he made the
least noise, he should be put to death. They asked him
" if Gen. Prescott was in the house?" He was so
frightened at first he could not speak; but at length, wa-

308 APPENDIX.

ving his hand towards the house, he said "yes." By
this time each division had got its station, and the doors
were burst in. They first went into the chamber of Mr.
Overing, the General was not there; then into the
one Mr. Overing's son lodged in; he said the General
was not there. Col. Barton then went to the head
of the stairs, and called to the soldiers with
out u to set the house on fire, as he was determined to
have Gen. Prescott, either dead or alive." On this
they heard a voice below calling " What is the matter?"
Col. Barton entered the room below from whence it
came, and saw a man just rising out of bed, and clap
ping him on the shoulder asked him if he was Gen.
Prescott? He answered "Yes, Sir!" The Colonel then
told him he was his prisoner: he rejoined, " I acknowl
edge it, Sir." The Colonel then desired him to hurry.
He requested leave to put on his clothes; the Colonel
told him "a very few, for their business required haste."
In the mean time, Major Barrington, the General's aid-
de-camp, finding the house \vas attacked, leaped out of
the window, and was immediately made prisoner. Af
ter the General had got on a few clothes, they marched
away for the shore. In order to make the General
keep up with them, Col. Barton made him put one arm
over his shoulder and another over another officer's, and
in this manner with Major Barrington and the sentinel
in the middle of the party, they arrived at the boats,
where they put the General's coat on him and seated
him in No. 1. The General seeing the five small boats
and knowing where the shipping lay, appeared much
confused, and asked Col. Barton if he commanded the
party? Upon being answered in the affirmative he said,
"/ hope you will not hurt me." — Col. Barton assured
him " while in his power he should not be injured."

After they had got a short distance from the shore,
they heard the alarm, three cannons, and saw three sky
rockets. It was fortunate for them that the enemy on
board the shipping could not know the occasion of it, as
they might with ease have cut off their communication
with the main.*

*lt has been erroneously stated tliat the party of light horse fta-
tioned at some distance from the house, rushed down upon them,
just as they pushed from the shore.

APPENDIX. 309

They rowed at no small rate, for upon landing at
Warwick Neck at day-light, the place from whence they
started, they discovered they had been gone from there
but just six hours and a half. The General as he land
ed turned to Col. Barton and said, " Sir, you have made
a d - d bold push to night." Me replied l' we have
been fortunate." The General and his aid were then
permitted to retire for rest, while Col. Barton sent to
Warwick town for a horse and chaise and orders for the
best breakfast that could be procured. An express was
then sent to Major Gen Spencer, at Providence, who
immediately sent a coach to conduct the General prison
er to Providence.!

Address to Sailors, especially to those of the American

Navy.

" What meaneit thou, 0 sleeper! Arise, call upon thy God."
When I commenced the preceding Memoirs, (more
than two years ago,) I had the impression that if I
should succeed in getting them printed, some of the
copies might fall into your hands; and designed to cloc'O
my narrative with an address to you; humbly beseeching
that God whose mercy has abounded towards me, one
of the chief of sinners, and who has given me a hope of
eternal life through Jesus Christ, that he would also
bless my feeble efforts to the promotion of your spiritu
al good. Should you be disposed to read my narrative,
you willl discover that I have had some personal ac
quaintance with the maxims and habits of sailors in the
American and British navies, both on board privateers
and in the merchants' service. My early attachment to
sailors yet remains. I know that they are patriotic, brave
and generous almost to a fault; and it may with propriety
be said that they defy danger. Their peculiar situation al
most precludes them from the privileges of religious
society. The time has been when it might be said of
us, that '* no man cared for our souls;" and it is a mel-

tGen Prescott was afterwards exchanged for Gen. Lee. There
\vau certainly no parallel between the two captures ot the two
Generals; as Lee was quartered full twenty miles from his army,
with only a handful of attendants near him. Prescott in sight of
A body of light horse and io view of his shipping.

310 APPENDIX.

ancholy truth, that we have been regardless of their sal
vation ourselves. It is a fact, many of us have been so
notoriously wicked as to insult the great Captain of sal
vation, by challenging him to destroy our souls. With
shame I confess that I have been thus vile, and yet God
has spared me even unto old age. Where sin abound
ed, grace hath much more abounded, through the
blood of Jesus Christ, and not to me only, but to many
other sailors of my acquaintance. " There is forgiveness
with him," even for sailors, '-that he may be feared."

There has been a material change in society within
the last thiriy years. There are now many, very many,
who pray for the salvation of sailors, both in .Europe
and America. Bible societies have done much; the
bethel flag has been unfurled in the principal ports of
England and America.

Many tracts have been written to attract your at
tention, improve your morals and excite in you a pro
per concern for the salvation of your soul's. The au
thors of those tracts, whether converted seamen or pious
landsmen, that they might more readily excite your at
tention, have illustrated important truths, in term phra
ses, familiar to sailors.

1 cansot feel less interested in your welfare than oth
ers. Permit me then to remind you, that the period can
not be far remote when your " dust must return to the
earth as it was, and your spirits must return to God who
gave them." Unless you are " born again, you cannot
see the kingdom of God." I beseech you not to trifle
with these important truths. You are exposed to un
healthy climates, the perils of the sea and dangers of
battle.

" The living know that they shall die," saith Solo
mon. Eccl. ix. 5. And we are told by Paul, that " it is
appointed for men once to die, and after death the
judgment." Heb. ix. 27. "For we shall all stand be
fore the judgment seat of Christ." Horn. xiv. 10.
" The ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sin
ners in the congregation of the righteous." Ps. i. 5.

Inasmuch, then, as we must all die and come to judg
ment, is it not useless to insult the Judge? Useless did
I say? it is presumptuous, it is criminal. Could sailors

APPENDIX. 311

expect their officers to bear with them if they should
treat them with such insolence as they frequently man
ifest towards Almighty God, who has expressly told us
in the third commandment, "the Lord will not hold him
guiltless that taketh his name in vain."

Intemperance is another vice, to which many sailors
are addicted. The consequence is frequently immedi
ate death, usually the loss of character and health, often
of the vessel and crew. The practice of the various vi
ces which prevail among sailors, " drown them in des
truction and perdition." 1 Tim. vi. 9. The scriptures
declare that " no unclean person hath any inheritance
in the kingdom of Christ and of God."

Shipmates, we must become subjects of the kingdom,
or we shall never fetch the port of eternal safety, and let
go our anchors within the vail, that is the holy place or
heaven. The voyage cannot be made in any other vessel
than the ark of safety, which is Jesus Christ. Brother
sailors, will you not endeavor to get a birth on board this
vessel, which will ensure you a safe passage to heaven
and eternal felicity. You have run large or before the
wind quite too long already. You cannot weather the
cape of good hope, without beating against wind and tide,
or in other words, without repentance toward God, and
faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Bear a hand then, my good fellows, and stand by to
about ship. Repentance, my brethren, is like beating
against wind and tide. It must be exercised with a hum
ble reliance on the merits of Jesus, resisting the world,
the flesh and the devil.

And a hundred to one, but you will make some lee
way after all; but if you mind well your compass the
Bible, and keep a good look out and a good helm, you
will shortly have both wind and tide in your favor.

Brethren, both officers and sailors, permit me to re
commend to you the Bible, because it is the word of
God. Read it frequently, and pray to God that he
will give you an understanding. Remember that in the
New Testament, God speaks to us by his Son Jesus
Christ. In it he testifies unto us that " By one man sin
entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death
hath passed upon all men, for that all have sinned and
come short of the glory of God."

312 APPENDIX.

My brethren, we are all by nature the children of
wrath, condemned already, and the wrath of God abideth
upon all who are yet in unbelief. We must be born a-
gain, that is, we must have a new heart. Jesus came
into the world to seek and to save that which was lost:
that we may be saved, he has told us to repent and be
lieve the gospel, and that except we repent we shall per
ish. You must deny yourselves, and take up the cross.
You must restrain your tongues; you must restrain your
passions. Hear a word from the Apostle James, my
brethren.

"Behold also the ships, which though they be so great,
and are driven of fierce winds, yet they are turned by a
very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth.
Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth
great things. Behold how great a matter a little fire
kindleth. And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity,
so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the
whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature, and
is set on fire of hell. The tongue can no man tame, it
is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison; therewith bless
•we God, even the Father, and therewith curse we men
who are made after the similitude of God; out of the
same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My breth
ren, these things ought not so to be."

I venture to say, brethren, if you properly restrain
your tongues, you will not find it very difficult to restrain
the wicked propensities of the heart. Will you not read
those various little tracts which are sent you? Will you
not remember the Sabbath day, and whenever the Beth
el flag is displayed, will you not go and endeavor to get
your shipmates to go where prayer is wont to be made?
Will you not improve all the opportunities you have, to
hear the gospel preached, and look unto God by prayer
and supplication with thanksgiving? Remember that
Jesus has told us, ft If ye who are evil, know how to give
good gifts to your children, how much more will your
heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them who ask
him?" May God graciously grant that you be no more
strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints
and of the household of God. So prays your shipmate,
ANDREW SHERBURNE.

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